


Launchpad: The Mask we Wear

by Poisondog2



Series: Colliding Worlds [1]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, Exiled Family, Family, Family Drama, Hidden Secrets, Honorary Duck Family Member Webby Vanderquack, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Launchpad smiles for a Reason, Launchpad's a nerd, M/M, Masks we hide behind, Not all is as it seems, Secret Relationship, not beta read i will die with my mistakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-06-22 23:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 66,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15592875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poisondog2/pseuds/Poisondog2
Summary: Launchpad McQuack is loved by the Duck family for his glowing personality, piloting skills, and warm presence. Donald Duck, most of all, appreciates everything the duck does.Especially for him.But when Launchpad’s past manages to catch up with him he soon realizes that who he is and what the Duck Family knows will clash like he never wanted.This was his new start... but nothing ever goes McQuack’s way.





	1. Chapter 1

Some say life is like a hurricane, here in Duckburg.

Some would call it dangerous, foolish to live somewhere like that.

But there are the select few that would call it an adventure. Those people live at McDuck Manor under the world’s richest duck, Scrooge McDuck. Years ago the mansion was cold, empty, and oh so quiet. 

Nowadays it’s filled with the laughter of children, then angry squawks of a raspy-voiced sailor, and the external groans of a _very old_ duck.

“Babysittin’... Why did I ever agree to it?” Said the owner of the Manor, albeit playfully, as he worked on paperwork in his office. 

The inclusion of his great-nephews Huey, Dewey, and Louie, into his life was the single most wonderful thing to happen to him even if he won’t admit it out loud. They made the maid’s granddaughter, Webbigail Vanderquack, feel included. The triplets’ cousin/sister if you will.

Those three also broke the tension between him and his estranged nephew, Donald, and they showed them both what family could do together.

And they also revealed that his personal chauffeur, Launchpad McQuack, was also a pilot, who knew!

And ever since then the adventures they’ve all gone on: climbing Mt. Neverrest, playing against a greedy spirit of fortune, crashing into the island of Ithaquack, and many others.

As the Scottish duck started chuckling to himself he realized something, having his family here at the mansion, “Aye wouldn’t have it any other way.”

_____

Groaning, that’s how Donald woke up. Groaning.

His feathers ruffled, slight bags under his eyes, and and the ever throbbing headache of insomnia. Forcing himself out of bed he sauntered over to the blinds, tossing them open. A hiss escaped his beak as the blinding light filled his retinas, but before long the white light dulled into a flurry of colours that was Duckburg.

“Ugh, wonderful sight this always is,” Donald sarcastically said as he scratched his side and made his way over to his closet. Inside had an abundant of shirts, jackets, and sweaters while also housing his favourite sailor coat and hat. He reached out a hand towards it, only stopping short, “Hmm… Not today,” he said to himself.

Throwing on a grey T-shirt and black zip-up he smoothed out his feathers and headed to the bathroom down the hall. Brushing his teeth and washing his face, he headed out and downstairs only to be almost run down by three tricoloured blurs.

“Morning Uncle Donald!” “Hey Uncle Donald!” “Good to see you up Uncle Donald!” The triplets shouted their greetings as they pushed past, heading to the dining room for breakfast.

Louie was the only one to stop and _actually_ look at the man who raised him, “No sailor outfit today? Hmm, you look good Uncle,” complimented the green brother before catching up with his siblings. 

A warmth grew in his heart as a smile tugged at his face, “Heh, always the suck up you are Louie… that’s the best part of you,” he thought out loud as he landed on the final step and followed the boys. While walking through the hall Mrs. Beakley’s granddaughter passed by, “Good morning Mr. Duck!”

“Good morning Webby, how are you?”

“I’m great! The triplets and I were just playing a game earlier: Romans against Aliens, I made it up myself,” she proudly stated, “though they got frustrated when I kept snaring them in my traps… doesn’t matter though, they said they had fun!”

“Well you can be… much for the boys at times. I’m glad they have someone else to be with them.”

“I know right?! They’re the best! And so are you Mr. Duck, and if I might say I do like this casual look of yours,” she said, gesturing or Donald as a whole, “I like it!”

“T-Thank you,” it was one thing to get compliments from family, but getting them from other was still something that Donald wasn’t completely used to, especially from someone with such brimming excitement like Webby.

“Always! Now let’s get going before the brothers eat everything!” She proclaimed, latching onto Donald’s hand and dragged him along.

_____

“Hey! Quit hogging all the syrup!” Dewey shouted, trying to snatch it out of his brother’s hand. But Louie was being difficult.

“Of course you can have it… just give me three bucks.”

“I’m not giving you money just to put syrup on my pancakes!”

“Fine, then go ahead and eat them dry,” with a smug look he watched his brother’s mouth fell agape as he glanced between him and his pancakes. After a bit he glared daggers before getting out of his chair to get his wallet from the room, only to have a cane pressed against his chest.

“Now, now Dewey there’s no need to leave just yet,” his Uncle spoke before eyeing his brother, “Louie you shouldn’t be charging family for such mandate things.”

“But Uncle Scrooge-“ 

“Especially when I pay good money for that syrup, you should be charging at least seven dollars!”

There was a beat of silence before the youngest, by seconds, triplet burst out laughing, “Ha! I guess you should listen to Uncle Scrooge, that’ll be seven bucks!”

Before the blue bother could go anywhere Donald walked in with Webby in hand, “What’s going on here?! Louie give your brother the syrup!”

“But-“

“Now _Llewelyn_ , I won’t be repeating myself.”

The syrup was given up.

“Good. Now honestly, why you two be like Huey? He isn’t causing a scene right now,” he pointed over at the red-hatted brother… who looked confused by the sudden mention of his name as he looked up from the book he was reading.

“Huh? Someone call for me?”

Donald sighed defeatedly, “Of course that’s why you’re quiet. Well, you could have worse habits,” he said the last bit to himself as he took a seat and fetched a cup for orange juice and a plate for food. Webby took a seat next to McDuck as she began chatting with the boys. No sooner than breakfast started it was over all too soon, for the kids at least, “Alright, time for everyone to get ready for school,” Donald barely remembered that it was Monday.

The groans of protest filled the dining room, “I won’t hear it, not now. You boys know that you have to go and you know that doesn’t change just because we moved in with Scrooge, so get ready.”

Donald watched as the triplets walked off, Mrs. Beakley placing a hand on her ward’s shoulder, “And I think it’s time for you to head upstairs for your lessons, don’t you think?”

“Okay Grandma!” Squeaked Webby as she bolted upstairs, Beakley facepalming at her exuberance. Leaving only Donald and Scrooge alone.

The silence was almost deafening to the younger duck as he tried scooting out of his chair to leave while Scrooge read his newspaper, but not quite succeeding.

“Donald could you run some errands for me?” Scrooge asked from behind the paper.

Resisting the urge to sigh, the duck threw on a loose smile, “Anything Uncle Scrooge, what is it?”

“After some research, and digging through the Archives, I found some rumoured descriptions of a tomb- The Tomb of Kar-lek. Hasn’t been discovered yet,” he set down the paper with a smirk on his face, “until now. I think I deciphered the texts, so we’ll be heading off next Friday. We’ll be needin’ some equipment, so if you could be so kind and get it for me that’ll be great. Okay? Good, then off you go! List’s with Launchpad.”

 _‘Always with the final word aren’t you Scrooge?’_ Donald sneerly thought, “Whatever you say Scrooge, won’t be long.”

“Alrighty then.”

_____

The boys filed into the back of the limo that was opened by a very tall, very muscular, deep billed duck with fiery red hair. His big pilot jacket always seems so clean even with everything he messes up and his cargo pants, a lighter colour than the jacket, were very form fitting. At least some may notice.

The big duck fixed his green ball cap as he noticed another figure approaching the limo, “Oh, hey Donny! Need a ride?”

“Yeah,” he huffed, “Scrooge is sending me on an errand and he said you had the list.”

“List? What- Oh, you mean that paper with a bunch of things on it?”

Donald snorted, “Yes Launchpad, that’s what I mean.”

“No problem! Once I drop the boys then I’ll help you out!” Launchpad exclaimed slapping the back of the smaller duck, getting a pained quack out of him, “Oh… sorry.”

“It’s fine,” the duck muttered before climbing into the passenger seat. After Launchpad climbed into the driver seat the five set off for the triplets’ school, which wasn’t that far from the Manor much to Donald’s pleasure. 20 or so minutes went by before they arrived and the boys said their goodbyes. Leaving Launchpad Donald alone.

Alone.

Alone at last, in Launchpad’s eyes. A few beats went by before he leaned over and pecked Donald’s cheek, catching the duck by surprise, “Launchpad! What are you doing?!”

“Kissing my boyfriend?” Said the pilot, clearly confused by Donald’s slightly upset reaction.

“We're still at the school, what if the boys saw?!”

Realization clicking as the large duck whipped to look out the window, sighing peacefully when he couldn’t see Huey, Dewey, and Louie anywhere, “S-Sorry I just… wanted to make you feel better is all,” he sunk into his shoulders, clearly embarrassed.

Seeing how the big dude was acting he tried comforting him by rubbing his back, “‘S okay LP, we just got to be careful is all.”

“But why Donald, why do we have to hide this?” The usually cheery duck was now frowning brows knitted in frustration, “Something tells me that the triplets and Webby won’t care.”

“I know, _I know_ Launchpad, I understand. I’m just… scared.”

Launchpad scoffed at the statement, “Scared? Pro adventurer Donald Duck scared? Nope! I don’t believe it.”

“I’m not scared of whatever or wherever Scrooge want's to go or do-“ _‘Not anymore at least…_ ’ “-but I am scared of what people think. I know that the boys might not care, but they’re far from thinking with one mind. I don’t want to divide them, and Scrooge,” Donald ran a hand over the top of his head, grabbing a tuft of feathers, “he may be harder to convince if I’m understanding him correctly. I already almost lost him once over… over her, and I don’t want to ruin the relationship you have with my Uncle. I don’t want to get you fired.”

Launchpad cocked his head, “You think he’d fire me for dating you?”

“Honestly, I don’t know how he’ll react. He can be unpredictable at times,” he brought his hand up and stroked the larger duck’s cheek with his left thumb, “I just… want us to be sure before we do anything.”

Holding his boyfriend’s hand for a moment, Launchpad sighed, “Okay, I just your judgement on this. Now, how about we go get those supplies huh? We are still sitting in the limo right by the school.”

“R-Right,” Donald responded, clearly red in the face as the chauffeur started up the engines and began driving, _‘This is going to be a long day…’_

_____

What probably should’ve taken an hour took four. Some of the gear Scrooge wanted was easy to come by while some… were a little more difficult to find. Especially when one of those items were amulets of course shielding… seven of them. Donald moulted some feathers trying to find those, but after an extensive search he and Launchpad ahead checked off everything on Scrooge’s list.

Launchpad wanted to celebrate, “Well shopping’s done, hey, why don’t we go out for some ice cream? I think we deserve it after a long day of hard work!”

“I would love to LP, but I don’t really have money to spend right now.”

The big duck had expected this, “No problem, I’ll just pay.”

“What? No, Launchpad, I can’t ask you to-“ Donald was silenced by a large finger being placed on his beak.

“Stop that. You know I care about you so just let me splurge a little on you, Okay? Really it’s not a problem,” Launchpad’s signature grin was on full display for the sailor to see and burning away any arguments he might’ve had.

“Alright…” He reluctantly agreed, sinking into his seat.

“Awesome!” Shouted LP as he punched the gas towards his favourite ice cream parlour, Donald screaming next to him. Once there he had, by God's good grace Donald thought, parked the limo with ease before coming around and opening the door for Donald.

“You know you don’t have to do that.”

“I know, I want to,” the large fowl proudly proclaimed as he locked the car and walked down the street, arm around the smaller duck. Nobody even took a second glance, much to Donald’s relief, as the turned the corner and come across a place called “The Cold Churn” with a pastel look to it and the inside. Opening the door both ducks were hit with the smell of hot fudge, vanilla, caramel, and other sweetly smells. Launchpad ordered a Large Fudge sundae- just under $11- for them and as LP went to go get it he fetched two spoons and guided Donald over to a table by the window.

As they began eating Donald caught Launchpad staring at him from time to time only to look away when he noticed, “Something up? Do I have something on my face?” He asked, wiping the corners of his beak with a napkin.

Launchpad laughed at that, “Hehe, no, I just noticed what you were wearing. You don’t go out in casual clothes as often, do you? The times we’ve gone out you’re usually in your sailor’s outfit.”

“I just… like it better is all,” Donald said trying to come up with another excuse, “I just didn’t feel like putting it on today since nothing was going on.”

“Well I think you look handsome in that hoodie, black really suits you,” a genuine compliment from a genuine person. Others would’ve accepted it and moved on.

Not Donald, “W-Well I, uh… t-thank you LP, that means a lot. Especially coming from you.”

“Oh, think nothing of it,” waving a dismissive hand as he continued eating, “just me saying what I think.”

“W-Well, I would like t-to say that… your jacket really compliments your features, accents your body nicely.”

“But you’d like to see it off, now wouldn’t you?” Launchpad suggested, wiggling his eyebrows in a very unLaunchpad-like way, which caught Donald off guard and he started choking on his bite. The larger fowl howled with laughter, “I’m kidding Donny! Just wanted to see how you’d react.”

“How did you think?!” Donald growled as he glared at Launchpad. He didn’t make jokes like this often, very rarely in fact, but when he does it always threw off the smaller duck. It didn’t help that this time he did it in such a public area that it rubbed him the wrong way, “We're in public Launchpad, can you _please_ not?”

“Okay okay, don’t worry, I’ll keep my trap shut, scout’s honor!” Holding up two fingers and placing a hand over his heart Launchpad held his ever cheery smile in place.

Rolling his eyes, Donald continued working on their shared sundae and not before long they had finished and drove back to McDuck Manor. Even with an irritated look on the duck’s face he did enjoy his outing with his big boyfriend. Launchpad always found a way to make him smile and never failed to brighten his day, and starting the day with little sleep… it was nice to have someone around that made you happy.

Pulling to the front of the Manor Launchpad helped Donald gather the gear from the trunk and get it inside. Scrooge walked into the lobby seeing his nephew and chauffeur, “Ah! Donald, you’re back. And I see you got everything we need, excellent!”

Holding the suited up backpacks and ropes, Launchpad poked his head from behind the pile in hand, “Hey Mr. McDee! Where do you want all of this stuff?”

“Upstairs in my office, I’ll sort through it later.”

“Okie Dokie Mr. McDee, no problem!” LP answered before climbing the stairs, Donald in tow. Once they dropped off all the equipment they went back down to the lobby, “Do you need me for anything else today sir?” Launchpad asked.

“No, everything is good fer now Launchpad. Have no meetings today, so I’ll call you when the boys need to be picked up.”

“Then I guess I’ll be off! See ya Mr. McDee, bye Donny!” Was all Launchpad said before leaving the mansion.

_____

Driving away from McDuck Manor Launchpad felt as his shoulders slump further and further as the Manor faded from sight. His signature smile fell slightly, but it still held firm. However, by the time he reached the old hangar, he called home, parked the limo, and shut the gate only then did his smile fall. Everything about his demeanour shifted from the upbeat, kinda oblivious pilot/chauffeur to the duck he rarely ever showed anyone else.

His eyes darken a bit as he panned around his surroundings: an abandoned plane hangar, with little light, the housed a hammock for sleep, a fridge for food, drawers for clothes, and a living area to watch t.v. and change. Home, that’s what he called it, and it wasn’t that he didn’t like it- he did- but this was the only place for Launchpad to be himself.

Unzipping his jacket and hanging it up, along with his hat, he made it upstairs and peeled off his shirt, revealing sculpted muscles and various scars that lined parts of his chest. Some burn looking, others more like stab wounds, but overall they tell a story that Launchpad never want others to know. 

Switching into a black muscle shirt and basketball shorts he headed further into the hangar and into a small room that held a large weathered punching bag, a red speed bag, and a rounded block with rope evenly wrapped around it. Launchpad grabbed a roll of medical tape sitting on a table and wrapped it around his fists and began beating down the speed bag. He worked on that for a while before moving on the punching bag, powerful blows echoed through the fabric as the chain whined above while the bag began to sway. 

Sweat trickled down his face and chest as his frown deepened the longer he punched. One final blow sent the bag flying a bit before stopping it from swing and moving on the rope block, _‘now for the tough stuff,’_ he thought as he started punching. Gritting his teeth from every blow, the tape acting as a mediocre barrier, he felt himself growling the longer it went on. The punches became more rapid, more violent, and because of this the tape tore and his knuckles began to bleed. 

Yelling into the silence Launchpad landed one final blow, seeing the stained rope through his matted hair. After a few deep breaths, he walked over to the same table and picked up some cotton and rubbing alcohol, cleaning his knuckles. Tearing the tape off and replacing it with cloth he headed upstairs and plopped into his hammock. A little nightstand next to it he set his phone down, from his shorts, on loud before nodding off.


	2. Chapter 2

_Ring Ring!..._

_Ring Ring!..._

_Ring Ring!..._

_Ring Ri- Click!_

“H-Huh? Yes, hello?”

 _“Launchpad, finally!”_ Came the voice of the fowl’s employer.

“Mr. McDee! What can I do for you?”

_“The boys are getting out of school soon, so you should start heading out to get them.”_

“Oh, right! Of course! I’ll be right over the get them!” He responded, jumping out of his hammock and rushing to take a shower.

_“Very good, and I’ll want you to stay when you get to the mansion. We have things to discuss about the next trip we're taking.”_

“No problem Mr. McDee!” Was all Launchpad said before ending the call and jumping into the shower. Cleaning off the sweat and irritation from earlier he jumped out and towelled off and grabbed a clean, by his standards, olive coloured collared shirt and yellow tie from his drawer.

Throwing on his clothes, cargos, jacket, and hat in all, before standing in front of the limo and composing himself, “Smile… People trust you when you smile, a smile makes others happy. They make you feel safe,” he finished the mantra he’s told himself many times before as his beak pulled into a “genuine” smile before getting in and starting the car.

The sun was waning in the sky as Launchpad took the route to the triplets’ school like he’s done many times before, parking just outside. Drumming his fingers against the wheel he didn’t have to wait long before the boys rushed out and entered the limo.

“Hey Launchpad!” Came the chorus of voices from the red, blue, and green-clad brothers.

“Heya! How was school today?” He asked, leaning against the window between them.

“Good, Louie almost got us in trouble at lunch,” answered Huey, crossing his arms in a huff.

“I did not! If all I did was sell delicious snacks to our schoolmates.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, you can’t do that!”

The boys devolved into a tussle as Launchpad chucked to himself before he started driving towards the mansion. It was a quick trip to the Manor and during that time Huey, Dewey, and Louie out everything out of their system and were onto other topics as the limo pulled up to their still new home. Once the car was parked, everyone exited only for the boys to be tackled by a Webby shaped bullet, “You’re back!” Webby rambled on with questions and whatnot about the boys’ day and what normal school was like as they entered the Manor, LP tracking behind.

Dropping off their backpacks in their room they all headed into The Study, “Ah lads, Webby, Launchpad, good to see you all. We have much to discuss.”

“Are we going on another adventure Uncle Scrooge?” Dewey asked calmly in voice but bouncing in place.

“Yes Dewey we are,” cheers erupted from the four children, which put a smile on both Scrooge’s and Launchpad’s face, “ _but_ it won’t be until next Friday,” the cheers shifted into groans, all except for Webby who was now cheering in anticipation.

“Sorry lads money and education are the most important things, especially to a Duck in this family. Now, we're going to The Tomb of Kar-lek, a tomb never discovered and left to rumours… until now. Aye sent Donald and Launchpad out to gather things for this trip and one of those items were curse shielding amulets,” he handed out the necklaces to the kids, Donald… and Launchpad, to his surprise, “Now it wouldn’t be an adventure without curses and traps and luckily we can handle one of those problems right away.” He held up his own amulet, thin black rope connected to a silver bail and ruby pendant, “As long as the Jewel is intact we're impervious to anything magical that the tomb throws at us, so don’t break’em!”

“Yes Uncle Scrooge,” Came the robotic response from the four children.

“Good, now I don’ know exactly what the tomb had in store for us, so stay close when we go. I’ll give more details when we’re on the way. Any questions?” Everyone was quiet for a moment and right before Scrooge adjourned the meeting Launchpad cleared his throat.

“Um, Mr. McDee sir?”

“Yes, Launchpad, what is it?”

“I think you mishanded these out,” holding up the amulet in his possession, “I know I’m flying the plane, but I don’t think I’ll need if if I’m standing guard.”

“Who said you’re standing guard? We’ll need an extra set of hands, so you’re coming with us into the tomb.”

LP was shocked by this, “W-What?”

“Yes, lad, you’re comin’ along. Beakley would be the one helpin’ us, but she told me that she’s staying.”

The burly maid crossed her arms, glaring at Scrooge, “Someone has to make sure this place is up to standard when you return, lord knows the mansion will fall apart if I’m not here,” the triplets and her granddaughter were laughing at the look of disdain Scrooge threw at Mrs. Beakley.

“Anyway, that’s why we need you Launchpad. I know you’ve come along before, against my wishes at times, so that why I’m officially inviting you along. Think you can handle it?”

Launchpad didn't know what to do… other pull his employer into a bone-crushing hug, “Thank you Mr. McDuck, I promise you won’t regret this!”

“Ack! Ah- Yes Yes Launchpad, that’s fine- N-Now put me down!”

“Oh,” he gently set Scrooge down who started coughing, trying to breath, “heh, sorry about that Mr. McDee,” LP apologized, rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

“Quite right McQuack. Now that I all I wanted to tell you all today, boys I believe you have homework to do,” the triplets muttered in disappointment but otherwise followed Donald out of the study, “and like I said Launchpad I have nothing else happening today so you can go home a rest, but I expect you-“

“Here at 8 sharp, no problem Mr. McDee! I’ll see you tomorrow, bye Mrs. B!”

“Have a nice day Launchpad,” Beakley saluted off as the large duck left the Manor. His drive was partially distracted by the sheer excitement LP had for the upcoming adventure. Scrooge McDuck trusted him as an extra set of hands, as muscle, but anyway that he could help out Launchpad would jump at the opportunity.

He was his driver, after all, his job was to get him and his family places- safely or not was up to debate.

As Launchpad pulled up to his hangar and parked inside he sat in the driver seat for a moment before cheering until his lungs gave out, he was ecstatic. Smiling from cheek to cheek he panned up to see the amulet dangling off the rearview mirror, grabbing it before exiting the limo, “Better this in a safe place,” he said to himself and he stuffed it in one of his cargo pockets.

Only to feel the cold sting of metal grace his feathered hand.

The smile and happiness he built up shattered in an instant as it registered with him exactly what he was carrying. Something that he shouldn’t even have on him.

Letting the necklace go and fishing the other object out he raised his closed fist in front of him, breathing deeply, before opening it to reveal what he already knew…

Brass knuckles.

Only one set, but he recognized the scratches in the metal, the dents that never buffed out, the _stains_ that never really washed out.

It was his original set, the set he hadn’t touched in _years_. Why were they in his pocket? He didn’t remember grabbing them, so when would he-

And then It clicked. That morning when he was first getting ready: groggy, disassociated, and oblivious. That’s how he woke up.

“I must’ve grabbed them when I was getting ready,” he said to no one in particular, rolling the knuckles in his palm. The cold, unforgiving metal felt so familiar to him, but at the same to feeling so alien, “Never again.”

Rushing up the stairs to his loft he went over to his dresser, pulled out a medium sized ammo box from the third drawer, and unlocked it with the key he normally kept stored in one of the inner pockets of his flight jacket. Unlocking the box revealed a plethora of assorted items he dare not touch again, dropping in the brass knuckles with a resounding _Clack!_ When it landed.

Locking the box up tight he stored it away and placed the key where it always laid. After storing the box away he felt… more at ease. He didn’t feel comfortable when it was out and even more so when it was open.

Like digging away at an old wound.

His eye began to darken, only to be stopped by the shine of glass only s few feet away. He glanced over at the picture frame he kept above his hammock, and as he came closer the image came into focus, it was of his family: Ripcord, his father, who was a brick wall of a man with a chin to boot; Birdie, his mother, who despite her smaller size was feisty and passionate; Loopy, his sister, who had frizzy blond hair and a nonchalant attitude; and Launchpad, easily the smallest as it was an old picture. He was wearing an old leather flight helmet and goggles and cream scarf that belonged to his father when he was younger, wearing the biggest smile you had ever seen.

It was the last time his family was ever _really_ happy.

The picture never failed to bring a smile to his face… but never failed to ruin it when he glared at the torn off section of said picture.

The picture was incomplete, but it didn’t matter to Launchpad as the people in the picture were who he considered family and that’s all that mattered. His smile was soon restored when he panned over to see the picture next to it: a complete photo of everyone at McDuck Manor, including him. A newer addition to his home, but nonetheless important. 

After reminiscing for a bit the large fowl soon realized that he had a few hours to kill before he headed off to bed, normally returning home around 7- or if an adventure took a while longer a little later. So after changing into some pj’s he headed downstairs and posted up on his couch and turned on the t.v., the channel he was on was running a marathon of his favourite superhero _Darkwing Duck_. There was no way he was gonna miss this!

_____

As night fell overhead the city of Duckburg, and most were turning in for the day, there was still one duck that stood wide awake.

It had been many years since he set his eyes upon the city or the free outside for that matter, but even so, he felt right at home.

The cold sea breeze blessed his feathers, standing above what would soon be his… all he had to do was find one duck and his plans could begin. It had been many years since he sine the duck but had no doubt he would run into them eventually.

If not… then he would just have to tear the city apart until he found what he wanted, “Hello Duckburg… I’m back! And I’m excited to see what you have in store for me, after all,” the mysterious duck reached into his pocket, pulling out a set of broken aviator goggles, “I already got what I wanted out of St. Canard, I just need the final piece.”


	3. Chapter 3

With the alarm blaring on his phone, Launchpad arose without any issues… if you didn’t count flipping your hammock and crashing into the ground an issue.

Rushing over to his shower he quickly cleaned up and changed for a day of chauffeuring. Scrooge McDuck was one to never be late for anything, no matter the importance- that included things _he deemed_ unimportant. 

Launchpad’s morning routine consisted of waking up a 6:45, taking a shower, dressing, then making what amounted to a breakfast before jumping into the limo and driving off at 7:25. From the hangar to the mansion was about 30 minutes, so he always arrived 5 minutes early.

Always.

He would get out and open the back door and wait for the family to finish breakfast. Once that happened Huey, Dewey, and Louie would burst out, greet him, and enter the limo followed by their great uncle. Launchpad would go and drop the boys off at school before driving over to McDuck Enterprises to get Scrooge to his obligatory 8:45 meeting. Afterwards Scrooge, and sometimes Beakley would have the large duck make runs to collect things for the Manor or pick up Gyro with whatever invention of the week he’s built.

It was a simple life for the pilot, but he’s as perfectly fine with that… after all, it never stayed that way when it came to Scrooge McDuck. With the triplets and his Nephew entering back into his life, the old duck was given new life and purpose; A purpose that drove him to resume adventuring and since Launchpad got to fly he was more than happy to assist.

Finding out Donald was the nephew of the richest duck in the world, Scrooge McDuck, caught Launchpad for a loop. According to everything that ensued afterwards, Launchpad met Donald five months before the whole gold eating dragon incident. He ran into him at _The Hamburger Hippo_ , a fast food restaurant with plenty of chains in the neighbouring city of St. Canard. Launchpad was in line behind Donald when he noticed immediately how worn down and tired the duck looked. When said duck went up to order four combo meals he reached into the pocket of his, very wrinkled, blue sailor coat only to find that he was short on cash by a third of the amount.

The look in his eyes said it all: he was angry. Both at himself and the prices. Launchpad found it quite interesting that the duck seemed to almost turn a shade of red and began trembling when he what was happening. Luckily for everyone involved, Launchpad stepped in and offered to pay the rest of what the duck owed as well as order his own food. Donald looked up at him in confusion, nobody had ever done something nice for him in a long time. He was cautious.

When all of their food came Donald was quick to try and snatch it up right away, but Launchpad was quicker. He offered to carry it for him since the smaller duck might have dropped it all if he carried it himself, which Donald reluctantly agreed to.

To say Donald was suspicious of Launchpad would be an understatement. In his memory people would never do something out of the “kindness” of their heart, they always wanted something in return. And that's what worried Donald the most: What could someone as big a Launchpad want from someone as feeble as Donald? He didn't have an answer.

When they got closer to the docks Donald had stopped Launchpad before taking the food from him, “Uh… thank you,” he muttered through his quack-like voice.

“No problem! Always happy to help!” LP puffed out his chest as he placed his feathered hands on his hips, “You must be really hungry, you think you’ll finish all of that?”

“W-What? No! It's not all for me, it's for my boys!”

“Boys? Oh! You have sons!”

“No! I-” Donald cut himself off as he felt his anger rise, “They’re my nephews, been rasin’ them ever since their mother disappeared.”

“Oh, uh, sorry about that then,” Launchpad chuckled nervously, messing with the feathers on his neck, “I just get excited when I meet new people. So… since you got this handled then I guess I should get going, huh?” LP went to when the other fowl stopped him.

“Wait!” Launchpad turned back around, “Why?”

“Huh?” Launchpad breathed, still smiling but a little confused.

“Why did you help me? What do you want?”

“Want?” The larger duck cocked his head at the question, “Nothing, I just like to help! You were short on cash so I paid the rest for you. Nothing special,” the duck went to say more he heard a few loud crashes coming from the houseboat along with shouting, “I guess you should probably take care of that, huh?”

Donald sighed, “Yeah… but before you go, what's your name?”

The large duck smiled, “Launchpad, Launchpad McQuack. You?”

“Donald, Donald Duck.”

“Well, Donald Duck, it was nice to meet you!” Was all Launchpad said before walking off.

_____

Over the course of a few weeks the two had run into each other more time than either thought possible: at the bank, at the mall, by the beach, at the docks- it seemed wherever Donald was Launchpad wasn’t too far behind.

It was when Donald went to gym real quick to work off some of the flab he had gained when he spotted Launchpad of all people. The duck was doing reps at one of the bench presses when Donald finally noticed how built the duck actually was. Every time he had seen him he was wearing a pilot’s jacket and thought that showed off his figure, to see it uncovered and fully exposed was something of a new sight. It had clouded his thoughts slightly in ways that haven’t been done in so long. 

Shaking out of his haze, and filling with growing anger, Donald stomped over to Launchpad right when he finished. Launchpad was surprised, to an extent, to see Donald, but what he wasn’t expecting was the flurry of angry quacks that were sent his way. The smaller duck basically interrogated the larger fowl on why he kept running into him, why he seemed to be everywhere he was, and if the duck was following him.

Needless to say, Launchpad was quite embarrassed.

A few gym goers caught wind of the bashing and turned to see what the commotion was about, which spiked Launchpad’s embarrassment further. Eventually, he managed to calm Donald down a bit and ask to talk to him in private.

Once away from the crowds Launchpad explained that after meeting Donald that first time he found himself worried for the duck. He admitted to following Donald around and even admitting to how stalkerish that sounded to the normal ear. He explained that he found himself thinking about said duck since that first meeting and every time they ran into each other it only strengthened his resolve, “I kinda wanted to know who Donald Duck was… that kinda blew up in my face, didn't it?” He couldn't even look at Donald properly without the embarrassment came back full force.

Because of how dense he could be Donald still wasn't getting it, and when he asked him what he meant by that he got his answer, “Well… I kinda wanted to ask you out on a date.”

That threw Donald Duck for a loop. His mind completely halted when he heard those words come out of the beak of the duck before him, and needless to say, it didn't process well. Launchpad was concerned that he read the duck the wrong way when he saw how stiff and frozen Donald had become, and it only deepened with what came next.

“WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?! YOU FOLLOWED ME ALL AROUND TOWN **FOR WEEKS** JUST TO ASK ME OUT ON A DATE?!” If Launchpad wasn't before, now he was completely mortified. 

This wasn't the first time someone blew up in his face because of a confession, and it didn't matter who it was it always hurt the duck. Some would be more gentle and tell him they weren't interested or that they didn't swing that way, others… well, let's just say he’s had a few punches thrown his way.

He fully expected for this to be one of those times, if Launchpad had judged the sailor’s uniform right, so he closed his eyes as he watched the duck continue to vibrate. What we wasn't expecting was and angry whisper, “ _You could’ve told me that in the first place! You didn't have to follow me around like a loon!_ ”

Launchpad opened his eyes, albeit cautiously, still tense when he saw the smaller duck with his arms crossed and his foot tapping, “Well?” Donald asked in, what amounted to, a normal tone.

“Well… what?” Launchpad asked.

“‘Well wha-’ Are you usually this dense?”

“Uh… no?”

The duck sighed as he brought a hand down his face as he groaned, “Well… are you going to ask me or what?”

Launchpad was stunned, he didn't really know what to do. He’s never really been in this situation before, the women he asked out were always so adamant, but quickly got bored of him and the men… it usually didn't go past him confessing. 

But even though he was in uncharted territory he wasn't going to waste this chance, so he cleared his throat and stood tall, “Donald Duck, would you like to go out with me?”

The duck was silent for a moment before answering, “Yes.”

Launchpad blinked, “What?”

“Were you listening? I said yes you blockhead!”

“Oh! Uh… cool.” He didn't really know what to do. Luckily he had seen enough movies to figure out his next move. Quickly tearing of a piece of napkin he had in his gym bag he scribbled something down and handed it to the duck, “Um, here my number, I’ll call you when I plan something out, okay? Seeya!” The large fowl called out before bolting away.

Donald stood there for a moment before panning down at the phone number carefully written in front of him… and smiled.

_____

After that run-in with Donald at the gym, the two had gone out on plenty of dates since then, and it was safe to say that they “hit it off” for the most part. While Donald, nowadays, liked to kick back and relax Launchpad liked excitement and the rush of adrenaline.

Their first few dates were a little rocky- Donald constantly crashing and burning when they went water skiing or somehow getting roped into a boxing match- after a while, they seemed to find the right pace for the both of them. They would go out and see whatever action movies were out in theatres, hangout at the beach or eat at Hamburger Hippo and go sit under the stars at the park when it got dark.

During these months of being together, they learned a lot about one another: Donald was in the Navy, before the triplets were born, for many years before being discharged. Launchpad had gone to flight school before being thrown out during the second week. Launchpad also mentioned he came from a family of stunt-pilots called _The Flying McQuacks_ , which he was more than happy to talk about for hours on end.

Donald also mentioned that he had a twin sister, Della, who’s the mother of his nephews, but other than that he didn't really talk about his family other than the boys Huey, Dewey, and Louie. Launchpad didn't want to push if Donald didn't want to talk about it.

During those months of dating, Launchpad had gone on about his job working for the richest duck in the world, Scrooge McDuck, and how much he enjoyed it. He had been hired as his personal chauffeur 4 years ago, and it's been to most fun. LP noticed that whenever he mentioned Scrooge Donald would tense up and seem almost… angry.

He didn't put two and two together until he had braked in front of a faded green station wagon and out stepped Donald himself. Then it clicked: Donald and Scrooge were family! Everything was confirmed when he heard his boyfriend call his employer “Uncle Scrooge”, which had Launchpad almost bouncing in his driver seat.

He had never seen the triplets other than in the pictures Donald showed him, so this was an exciting time, but at the same time, he had to pretend that he didn't know who they, or Donald, we're in order to hide any suspicious the boys or Scrooge might've had.

Then the whole gold eating dragon happened and Scrooge got back into the groove of adventuring, which Launchpad was really excited about. Every few days to every few weeks Scrooge and his family set out on one wacky adventure after another, Launchpad always getting them there more or less in one piece.

School started back up for Huey, Dewey, and Louie at the beginning of August so as school started back up Scrooge tried to “dial back” on the trips, usually failing as they would go almost every weekend.

But everything about these trips were always fun, always something interesting happening- Like bargaining with mummies to save his self-appointed best friend, racing a robot to prove superiority, or Elbowing a sky pirate in the face- so Launchpad had been glad he took this job all those years ago. 

It also had the added benefit of being near his favourite duck. Yep, life was good for Launchpad McQuack. Things were finally looking up!

_____

Scrooge had a few Benefits to go to, get his money swindled out of him for “charity” or whatever it was. The day was plenty busy for him and he couldn’t have been more grateful for his chauffer of four years for getting him where he needed to be.

He didn't know a whole lot about the duck, but what he did know brought a smile to his bill. Launchpad was reckless, extravagant, and a little dimwitted. He always aimed to please and never failed to do so. He also had the benefit of driving as if the Fires of Hell were chasing him constantly, and even if that left his rides “a little bumpy” he wouldn't have it any other way.

What he was curious, slightly, about was his driver’s personal life as he rarely talked about it. He had assumed that the duck had gone to flight school at one point, for how long he didn’t know, and that he was very much a child at heart. Other than that everything else was clouded in mystery, and any time he asked Launchpad about something the duck had a knack for saying a lot while not saying anything at all. 

From context clues, Scrooge could infer that Launchpad had a significant other- from the love-struck smile wore at times and newer cleaner shirts he started wearing these last few months- but he couldn't figure out who. The large fowl never gave an inch in giving away any ideas and it drove Scrooge crazy!

He also figured out was that Launchpad knew how to fight from their, almost routine, run-ins with The Beagle Boys and their time with Don Karnage. He knew how to throw a punch when it came down to it, even if it seemed like every time it was on accident. Scrooge wouldn't be surprised if his driver was a fighter of some sort before he hired him, the man’s bulky stature was enough to confirm this for him. Other than those two facts he gathered he didn't know anything else about him.

In truth, Scrooge only recently started finding himself invested in Launchpad and his history ever since he got back into adventuring again. There were so few people that you could trust and besides his family and Beakley, the only one he didn't know anything about was Launchpad. With that being said it not like Scrooge _didn't_ trust the large duck, he just wanted to know more in order to _strengthen_ that trust.

His daydreams were halted in their tracks when he heard the chime of his phone alarm go off, “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure,” Scrooge said to the group of morons he found himself surrounded by before leaving. He fixed his bow tie and suit as he left the banquet hall, seeing… no one.

Scrooge blinked before rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't imagining this. Launchpad was late. Launchpad is never late. He hasn’t been late since his _first day_. The fact that he was concerned the old duck.

McDuck checked his phone: 7:15. He saw a notification: “Leave banquet, go home to have dinner with family”.

The fact there wasn't a limo in sight was jarring to the richest duck, so much so that he went to his contacts and called Launchpad. The phone rang. And rang. And rang. And r-

_“Hey! You reached the cell of Pilot Launchpad McQuack, sorry I couldn't get to the phone but if you have something important- things usually are- to say then leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can! Thanks!”_

The duck’s cheery pre-recorded voice irritated McDuck and drove even more concern into his being. After hanging up he decided to wait for Launchpad and when he showed up he’d get the tongue lashing of the century.

So he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And after checking the time to see it was now 7:45 Scrooge was about to call his driver once again when he heard the familiar roar of the limo engine turn the corner. Once it parked in front of him his brows knitted in frustration, “Launchpad, where the hell have you been?! You were supposed to- great ancestor's kilts!” Scouted the scott as he watched Launchpad get out and come around to the sidewalk. His hair was a complete mess, his hat skewed, while he had a split beak and bruised chin. His knuckles seemed bruised as well if not a little cut from punching. The collared shirt he wore was torn in a few places, dotted with blood where he was cut and the tie he wore was completely ripped down the center. What really caught Scrooge's eye, however, was the fact the pilot jacket he had on didn't have a sign of distress on it, almost looking pristine compared to the rest of him.

“Launchpad, what happened to you?”

He seemed completely oblivious to how he looked until he looked at himself, “Huh? Oh, this? It's nothing Mr. McDee don't worry about it. Sorry for being late,” said the duck with his signature smile, albeit a little forced.

Scrooge wasn't having any of it, “Who cares about your tardiness, who did this to you?” McDuck was positively furious that it seems like his personal driver was looped into a fight, and possibly against his will, _‘No, definitely, it was definitely against his will. Launchpad doesn't pick fights with anyone for no reason.’_

“Honestly McDee sir it's fine. A few dogs were pestering this nice lady and I stepped in to help, wasn’t really expecting for it to take so long,” Launchpad chuckled as rubbed the back of his neck, acting like he was caught sleeping on the job and didn't just get the feathers kicked out of him for an act of chivalry.

Scrooge was baffled, he didn't know what to say. He really wanted to push Launchpad more to figure out what happened, but then his phone rang displaying Beakley’s number, “Hello?”

_“Where on earth are you?! The kids and your nephew have been worried sick for almost an hour!”_

_‘Oh right, the family!’_ “I, uh… I’ll explain when I get home, I’m heading over now.”

 _“Wha-” Click!_ He hung up before his maid could push for more details, “Alright Launchpad let's get going.”

He opened the door for his employer, “Of course Mr. McDee, I’ll get you there right away!”

 _‘As you always do my boy,’_ warmly thought Scrooge.

_____

Mrs. Beakley, Donald, the triplets and Webby waited in the foyer by the door anxiously waiting for the owner of the Manor to return. They perked up when they heard the lock open nd the knob turned before in walked in Scrooge. The kids cheered as they tackled the old duck in a crushing hug, which he returned, “You kids are getting stronger by the minute! Everything’s fine, I'm okay.”

“Why did it take you so long to get home?” Asked his nephew, “You’re usually never late.”

“I know, but uh… Launchpad got caught in a snag,” he said as he signalled for the duck to come in, shocking everyone by how he looked. The kids immediately jumped from Scrooge to Launchpad as they asked a flurry of questions:

“What happened to you?”

“Are you okay?”

“Did you get robbed?”

“Who did you beat up?”

The last question was what caught Launchpad, ‘Why do you think I beat someone up Dewey?”

“Because you’re a nice dude and you don't do things if you don't have to, and with how you look you look like someone tried to beat the snot out of you!”

“Well you’re right about that Dewey,” Scrooge answered, “Our pilot here saw someone in need and helped them out, obviously not without consequence. I wasn't there, but I would say that he was quite brave to do so.” The kids flew into a whole different series of questions, which were abruptly stopped by their great-uncle, “Now kids I think Launchpad here need to get his injuries cleaned and rest, for the time being, don't you agree?” They all nodded before scampering off, “Beakley would you be so kind as to show our hero here to his room?”

“Of course Scrooge.”

“Wait hold on,” Launchpad held up his hands in defence, “I don't live here, how do I have a room?”

“We had it set up a while back if ever so got stuck here at the Manor- Donald could you go fetch the first aid kit from the kitchen?” Asked Beakley, the smaller duck nodding before running off, quite fast from Scrooge’s point of view, “Now if you could follow me Launchpad I’ll guide you to your room and clean up those wounds.”

“Gee, I’m not sure if-”

“ _Now_ Launchpad.”

“Yes ma’am,” he briefly said before trailing after her.


	4. Chapter 4

Sunlight peeked through the curtains as a new day washed over the McDuck household. Said sunlight burned into the face of a rather large lump in the king-sized bed.

As Launchpad tried to block out the sun with the blanket made of Egyptian cotton he realized how comfortable his bed was before snuggling in further…

Until he remembered he didn't have a bed.

Jolting awake he briefly scanned his surroundings, in fear, for anyone trying to hurt him until he slowly registered where he actually was, “I’m… I’m still at the mansion,” Never before had he breathed such a sigh of relief before in his life.

Actually, this was the _second time_ he did, but that’s beside the point.

As he fully looked around the room of wine-red walls and eyed the fiery orange sheets, looking out the huge windows that overlooked the Manor’s backyard and garden, his body finally realizing it wasn't in danger he flopped back down into bed.

It was a luxury to sleep in such a warm and soft bed that Launchpad couldn't believe it was real. He had been saving up to get a bed of his own, but getting a nice bed was a lot of money. More money than being a chauffeur for 4 years paid.

After laying down, aimlessly staring at the roof, for some time only then did the large fowl throw the covers off and get of out bed. As he swung his feet around he realized the bandages and gauze that graced his feathers, _‘That right, Mrs. B fixed me up,’_ he thought, running fingers over his wrapped up knuckles and bandages that stuck to his beak.

He noticed a chair that had a new black T-shirt and Jeans his size laying on top of his pilot jacket before smiling, “Thanks Mrs. B.”

He grabbed the clothes and wandered over to the full body mirror on the other side of the room and started stripping down. As he peeled off his ruined shirt he got a full view of the medical patches he had placed himself over the cuts on his torso. He had refused for Mrs. Beakley to remove his shirt and insisted that he could do this part himself as the cuts were very shallow. He was grateful that she allowed him that at least. He didn't want her fussing over the scars.

As he pulled the shirt over his head and put on the jeans he stared at himself in the mirror, admiring what he worked so hard for. Flexing his muscles and puffing out his chest he, indeed, liked what he saw: years of work transformed into a barrel-chested pilot. 

Apparently someone else like it to by the slow whistle he heard coming from the door.

His heart practically burst of out his chest as he whipped around to see Donald leaning up against the doorframe, “Do you do that often or was that a one time show?” The duck asked as he closed the door behind him and locked it for the time being.

“I don't know, did you like what you saw,” Launchpad tried to ask with bravado, only to be cut down by the red blush on his face.

“More than I care to admit,” huffed out Donald as he caressed Launchpad’s bicep, “You are a looker LP, how was it that nobody snatched you up before me?”

“I guess… others didn't know what they had,” Launchpad lied as he grew more and more comfortable under his boyfriend’s embrace.

“You snooze, you lose I guess. I’m just glad to have you LP.”

He held Donald’s hands with his own, “Me too Donny, me too.” before pulling him into a quick, but nonetheless memorable kiss. It would’ve stayed that if Donald didn't grip the back of LP’s head pull him into a more passionate one, which Launchpad happily accepted.

After a few seconds, that felt like minutes, Donald pulled back and patted him on the chest, “Not that I’m not glad to have this time with you I came upstairs to tell you that breakfast is almost ready and to tell you to get dressed, but you already had that mostly covered when I walked in.”

“Mostly”, that's what Donald said and that's what left a pit in Launchpad's stomach. Though both had been in the other's presence without being fully clothed Donald had yet to see Launchpad without a shirt on, as he was afraid of what he might think. He had been careful thus far, but he did delay getting ready this morning.

Keeping his smile up as he took a deep gulp he finally found his voice, "A-And… What did you see?”

“Only that you never seem to ever briefs, much to my dismay. I think you’d look good in them.”

 _‘He only saw me without pants…’_ That thought lifted a weight off of his shoulders, letting out a sigh of relief, “Oh thank goodness!” He said with the biggest smile.

“What? What are you so happy about?”

“Nothing just…” His mask slipped back into place, showing off his goofy grin, “I do have briefs, but you’ll have to earn your way into seeing me in them.”

Donald scoffed, placing his hands on his hips, “Being your boyfriend of six months doesn't earn me that privilege?”

“It gets you ⅔ of the way there, you’ll just to figure out what the last third is,” he spoke while ruffling the top of Donald’s head, “Come on, let's go downstairs before everyone starts wondering where we are.”

_____

Sitting down for breakfast the kids swarmed around Launchpad, asking about what had happened last night for him to end up like that. He explained that someone, a woman, was being pushed around by three bigger dudes, so he decided to step in.

They were in awe as he, ever so minutely, described the confrontation. Three against one was never good odds even more so when your opponents were almost twice your size. As he continued to eat and tell the story, LP noticed the sparkling glint in both Dewey and Webby’s eyes as if they were meeting their hero for the first time. It warmed the large fowl’s heart seeing his pseudo niece and partial nephew look like this.

The appreciation was only slightly thrown off kilter when he described giving the woman his jacket before the fight when Scrooge questioned its pristineness, “Did you get her number?”

Launchpad choked on his OJ that he had just taken a sip from when Louie asked that, causing Beakley to pat his back to help him out, “T-Thank Mrs. B- and no Louie I did not get her number.”

“Well, why not? Chicks dig a hero.”

LP didn't really know what to do, “Well-”

“He already has someone Louie, that's why he ‘didn't get her number’,” Scrooge answered as he sipped his coffee, obviously not seeing the look of terror gracing Launchpad and Donald’s face.

“Mr. McDee, sir, how do you know that?”

“Your clothes, lad, they’ve been newer and cleaner these last months so it became clear to me you gained someone in your life to help you out with your dressing.”

“O-Oh, yeah, right.”

This didn't help Launchpad in the slightest:

“You’ve been dating someone?! For how long?”

“Why didn't you ever mention them?”

“Are you ever going to introduce us?”

“Is she hot?”

That last question perked some eyebrows, Louie just shrugged, “What? We're all thinking it I'm just brave enough to ask.”

“Okay kids,” Scrooge began as he set down his paper and stood up, “leave Launchpad alone. A still have meetings to attend and errands to run so I’m gonna to need me driver, right Launchpad?”

“Of course Mr. McDee, I’ll just go grab my jacket and we’ll head off!”

_____

As they drove their way to McDuck Enterprises Launchpad let his shoulders sag a bit in comfort, “Thanks a lot boss! I don't know how many more question I could’ve handled.”

“Think nothing of it lad. I really did need you today, getting you away from the wee ones was just a bonus.”

Dropping off Scrooge at the company he stayed exactly where he was as the meeting the Wednesday morning, Scrooge said, wouldn't take all too long. He was right, in the sense that Launchpad had only been drumming his thumbs against the wheel for 30 minutes when Scrooge came back, “All done boss?”

“Aye, the stupid vultures were boring me with their droning off, so I left.”

“But Mr. McDee,” Launchpad turned around to face his employer, “shouldn't you stay? I know you don't like them, but isn’t they talk about important?

“What’s important is making sure the company doesn't lose money, and that's what _I’m_ doing. All they do is sit around and complain, now drive. We have things to collect.”

“Righty-o boss!” LP answered as he started up the limo once again and taking off.

Scrooge told launchpad that since Beakley was cleaning the house she gave him a list of groceries to fetch as well as restock the cleaning supplies. When Launchpad asked why he didn't sent Donald to do this all he got back was “wanted some fresh air,” before they fell into a comfortable silence. What irked him about this answer was that his employer get plenty of fresh air when takes walks through his garden or goes on adventures. Hell, he's probably one of the healthiest people he knows! 

He got his answer when they were at the market picking up celery and bell peppers, “So… this lass of yours,” Launchpad internally groaned at the “fatherly tone” Scrooge doned, “is she from around here?”

“Yeah, born and raised in Duckburg actually!”

“And did you meet her?” He could tell what Scrooge was trying to do. He wanted to know more about his pilot, so Launchpad made sure to only he what he wanted to know without giving anything away.

“At Hamburger Hippo, they were short on cash so I offered to pay.”

“Oh really?” Launchpad pushed the cart as they walked over to the Pasta aisle, “She must’ve had a rough payday then.”

“They didn't actually have a job then, nobody would hire them.”

“Why’s that? I’m sure even a young lass can handle herself in the work environment, the value of hard work isn't strictly male.”

“I don't know Mr. McDee I couldn't tell you.”

“That's a shame,” Scrooge was checking the list to see what sauces Beakley wanted him to get, “You met the family yet?”

 _‘Oh crap,’_ Launchpad thought, thankful that Scrooge had his back to him, “Uh, y-yeah I have. Father’s a bit of a stickler though, but I can’t really fault him. They have younger cousins, though, who are really nice! The whole family’s a bit quirky, but I think I fit in just fine!”

“Good good, that's always a nice little bonus. Don’t want them hatin’ you now, that could cause all types o’ problems.”

 _‘You don't know the half of it boss.’_ “Yeah, I guess I just got lucky,” He murmured, fawning over the indirect advice Scrooge had given him.

_____

After the trip to the market, they went over to _SuperDuck’s_ , a hypermarket where you can get anything from art supplies to electronics to food, etc. Walking down the cleaning aisle they picked up what they needed, which wasn't too much, before leaving to head back home. During the ride back Scrooge asked a few more questions about launchpad’s “lass”, allowing him to paint a semi-decent picture of who she was. The only thing he didn't ask was what she looked like ‘cause, to him, that seemed a little invasive.

On their drive back Launchpad stopped at a red light, humming a tune Scrooge didn't recognize, and when the light turned green he pressed down on the gas.

Only to be almost T-boned by a speeding car as it tore through the red light, his foot hit the brakes instantly.

Scrooge wasn't fully prepared for the sudden stopped and so slammed into the seat in front of him. As he clawed his way off the ground of the limo, muttering out a series of Scottish curses, he glared daggers into Launchpad, “Oi! What-”

“Holy fuck that was close!” Launchpad sneered in the car’s path, “Asshole…”

Scrooge felt his throat dry up hearing profane words come out of Launchpad because… it just didn't happen. And very rarely, if ever, did Launchpad sound even the slightest bit irritated. He was always so cheery! So when Scrooge saw the sneer in the duck’s face it sent a chill down his spine, “Launchpad.”

In an instant he watched the emotions flow through his driver, anger to shock to embarrassment, “S-Sorry Me. McDee, I don't know what came over me,” Launchpad continued on driving, not tearing his eyes off the road.

“It’s alright lad just surprised is all. I don't think I’ve ever heard you use language like that.”

“I try not to, not since-” There was an audible clap from LP’s closing beak, “I just don't use it, I hate it.” And from there the rest of the ride was driven in silence, even at a steady pace. No violent moves. It was a normal drive.

It worried Scrooge. It worried him a lot.

As they pulled into the driveway of the Manor Launchpad got out of the limo and opened the door for Scrooge, “Head on in boss, I’ll bring the groceries inside!”

Scrooge was a little unnerved by how he was acting like nothing happened, but he didn't say anything, “Are you sure? I may not be young, but that doesn't mean I’m already buried.”

“Nah, it's fine! Really I got this,” Launchpad said as he popped open the trunk and grabbed four bags in each hand and waddled towards the from door, much to Scrooge’s amusement. Getting the door for him, Scrooge went upstairs to finish up some paperwork in his office but before he made it around the corner he looked down from the balcony to watch Launchpad: cheery and all much the gentle giant the kids see him as. Seeing him like that brought some ease to the old duck, but something’s always going to itch at the back of his head when it came to Launchpad McQuack.

_____

Launchpad helped organize the food in the fridge and the cans in the cabinet while Mrs. Beakley put away the cleaning supplies, “Thank you for the help Launchpad, I appreciate it.”

“No probs Mrs. B it's no trouble at all!” For most Launchpad’s smile would put them at ease, but Beakley could sense something was off.

“Something wrong Launchpad?”

“No, what makes you think that?”

“Your smile… it doesn't seem as bright as it was this morning.”

She must’ve hit right at the core ‘cause the moment she said that a flurry of falling cans came right after. She poked out of the supply closet to see Launchpad scrambling to pick what he had dropped, luckily none of them broke open, “Oh sorry Mrs. B I guess I’m clumsier than normal right now.”

“Launchpad-”

“Everything’s fine B it's nothing to worry about!”

“Launch-”

“I’ll get this cleaned up on no time then I’ll be out of your hair!”

“Launch-”

“Maybe I could use this and redo what I didn't, I’m not sure how-”

“Launchpad!” The maid screamed the pilot into silence, his posture rigged. She approached him and noticed the closer she got… the smaller Launchpad tried to make himself, “Launchpad, I’m not going to hurt you,” she voiced, even if the notion was ridiculous, to try to calm him down in some way.

And it worked.

His posture relaxed as he turned towards her, face downcast like she never seen before, “What’s wrong?”

“I… I cursed in front of Mr. McDuck,” the use odd his full name was strange to the ear, but not shocking with how he was acting.

“That's it? I’m pretty sure Scrooge doesn't mind a little slip here and there, I mean, have you seen to way he acts sometimes?”

“I know it's just…” The duck’s eyes seemed vacant for a moment before glowing to their usual brightness, “Yeah, you’re right. It's no big deal, it's fine,” he said as he finished putting all the can back where they belonged, “I’m just thinking too much into it, don't worry, I’ll be my usual self tomorrow. I promise you that!” He shouted as he raced towards the door and left, leaving Beakley confused and concerned.

“It was just a little cursing… why was he so worked up about it?”

_____

Hours later after picking up the boys from school and dropping them off at home Launchpad headed home himself. The triplets asked him to stay, but he said that he had other things going on. He didn't.

He just wanted to be alone.

He threw himself onto his couch, face first, and just laid there. After a while he flipped over, pain written all over his face, “Stupid… stupid, stupid, stupid! How could I be _so stupid?!_ ” Launchpad gritted his teeth as he berated himself, “Cursing in front of Scrooge McDuck, what was I thinking! _Idiot!_ ” He threw himself into a sitting position, “Launchpad McQuack doesn’t curse, ever! Launchpad McQuack doesn't get angry… Launchpad McQuack is the type of duck that gets something right even when he’s doing it wrong. Launchpad McQuack is the dumb, lovable pilot that the kids and Scrooge McDuck adore. Launchpad McQuack…” he caught sight of his reflection in the t.v. screen: hollow, dull, and dishevelled.

He flinched away as he headed to the bathroom, washing his face. After scrubbing for what felt like hours he stared into his reflection and stood stern, “I am Launchpad McQuack. I brighten people’s day with just my smile. I am the driver and pilot of Scrooge McDuck, the richest duck in the world. Anything else is a forgotten memory, burned away. All is left… is _me._ ”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does have some... unsettling events that happen near the end, so read at your own discretion. (It doesn't cross the line, but it does inch towards it)

Today was a new day.

Donald adjusted his sailor’s cap and smoothed out any wrinkles on his black sailor’s coat then looked back at his reflection, “Sharp as always,” he complimented his reflection before leaving the room and heading downstairs for breakfast.

Lately, he had been able to sleep through the night and he didn't know why, but he didn't care. He felt awake and rejuvenated and ready for the day, what could go wrong?

Fire on the houseboat… a fire on the houseboat.

He quacked in distress the entire way out to the pool, grabbing the hose and blasting his “home” with a torrent of water. 

He managed to put it out after 15 minutes, and it didn't look like anything was destroyed, Donald breathed a sigh of relief. He watched at the corner of his eye three distinctly coloured blurs trying to get inside, “Boys…” The blurs froze.

“Sorry Uncle Donald?”

_____

Scrooge sat down at the head of the dining table and pulled out his newspaper wanting to catch up with the day’s events so far. A nice peaceful morning.

Until his nephew quacked angrily from the pool through the inside as the triplets yelled from the top of their lungs.

“Of course,” Scrooge deadpanned.

Doing his best to ignore the commotion it only became a harder task when the chase led into the dining room, triplets running over and diving under the table and Donald squawking the entire time trying to catch them

 _‘One morning, that’s all I ask,’_ thought Scrooge as he picked up his cane and waited.

Donald’s temper was one of the things that usually got the duck in trouble and something that Scrooge wasn’t having this morning, so he waited for an opening… before throwing his cane across the room and smacking Donald right in the head.

The boys stopped dead in their tracks as they watched their uncle crumble to the ground like a rag doll. Their attention was immediately thrown to their great uncle, who just shrugged, “What? I may be an adventurer, but I do like my quiet from time to time. Now help your uncle into a chair, I’ll get Beakley to wake in a bit,” the boys obliged as they all lifted him up and managed to seat him properly before taking seat themselves 

After the entire ordeal, Webby walked in like nothing had happened, “Good morning guys! Morning Uncle Scrooge!”

“Hey Webby.” “What’s goin’ on?” “Did you sleep well?”

“Heh, mornin’ lass. Like Huey said, did you sleep well?”

“Oh yeah, I feel great! When I don’t stay up and read up on McDuck history it makes it easier,” she took a seat next to the unconscious Donald, “Morning Donald!”

He didn’t respond.

“Donald?” Webby poked his side only to see the fowl topple over, hitting his head on the chair next to him, “Donald?!” 

“He’s fine lass, leave him be.”

“But-“

“Trust me Webby ye didn’t do anything to him, that was all me. Beakley, the salts!” Scrooge shouted as Webby’s grandmother came in a few moments later with a tiny vial in hand.

She fixed Donald back up in his chair before waving the uncapped vial over his bill, then watching as the sailor sprung to life, “Huh?! What? Where?” Donald, still a little dazed, when he looked around, “I’m sitting at the dining table?”

“Yes lad yer are, why?”

“But… I thought-“

“The boys already apologized for settin’ the boat on fire and you already gave them a good tongue lashing, everything’s settled.”

“Really?” Donald asked, still confused slightly! “But… nevermind, boys don’t ever do that again ya hear?”

“Crystal Uncle Donald,” Came the chorus of voices, the triplets silently thanking their great uncle from saving their tail feathers.

“Good and now that’s out of the way, why don’t we eat?”

_____

Donald was still a little perturbed by the boys setting fire, albeit accidentally, to the houseboat, but he would try not to let that bother him today.

Ever since Della’s disappearance Donald has struggled to get much sleep, even over the last 12 years. His insomnia had gotten better as the boys grew older and even more so when he started dating Launchpad, but there still were bouts that kept him up like on Monday. That had been the first time in two months he hadn’t been able to sleep, and even though he knew it wouldn’t be the last time he was glad the rest of the days so far hadn’t resulted in similar nights.

The thought of Launchpad easing his sleep roused a chuckle out of him as he finished up the food on his plate. Launchpad, the Duck who’s voice could keep you recaptured for hours, was the one duck he thought of that helped at night.

He was really glad he said yes to that first date all those months ago.

A fun fact about the duck who loved hugs and didn’t mind getting close with friends: he didn’t like to be touched. Not in a fully intimate way anyway.

Donald had found this out when he and LP were out stargazing one night. They had only been dating for two months at that time and in that time Donald found himself growing closer and closer to Launchpad, but when it came to physical contact they barely had any. Sure LP would hug him from time to time or hold his hand, but other than that nothing.

They hadn’t even kissed yet.

So while Launchpad had his attention stuck on the stars Donald took the time and went to wrap his arm around LP’s waist, which luckily was a smaller part of his body. Donald had almost made it all around when his arm brushed his lower back and the look of fear that washed through Launchpad’s face was unnerving. What was even more unnerving was how lightning fast his hand shot out and gripped Donald’s arm in a tight grip, “ _ **No.**_ ” His voice cold and even, but nonetheless unsettling.

It concerned Donald more when Launchpad put more pressure into his grip, his arm beginning to fall asleep, “L-Launchpad, that hurts!”

Launchpad snapped out of whatever trance he was under and immediately let go. His hand trembling as he finally looked at Donald, “D-Donald? What…” He saw him rubbing his arm and realized what he had done, “What… Oh geez, Donny, I’m… I thought,” his breathing was shaky, “I-I thought you were...,” pulling Donald into a tight embrace he buried his face into his shoulder, “I’m so sorry…”

After that time Launchpad finally opened up to Donald saying that he wasn't really sure how physical intimacy worked. He didn't go into details, but Donald could see Launchpad was hurting on the inside but from what he didn't know. 

From then on there they established rules: Hand holding and hugs were fine, but anything else had to be asked for first, when it came to clothes as long as the other party was willing then they could be shed- never ask for something to be taken off, and kisses were okay other than along Launchpad’s chest.

These rules became laxer as time went on, like for casual touches and when seeing the other in various states of undress, but the kisses one for Launchpad was still firmly in place.

He wouldn't say why but it didn't matter to Donald. As long as LP was happy he was happy.

His daydream was interrupted he registered all the eyes on him, “What?”

“Uncle Donald are you alright?” Huey asked, looking his brothers for support, “You zoned out for a moment there.”

“Did you hit your head harder than I thought lad?” Scrooge asked, setting down his paper, “I could have Beakley look at you.”

Shaking his head Donald waved a dismissive hand, “No, I’m fine. Just thinking about some stuff.”

“If ya say so lad,” Scrooge muttered as he went back to reading his paper. The kids seem a little concerned still but ultimately pushed it aside to finish whatever food they had before getting ready for school.

Donald was glad they didn't push further because it was too early to, possibly, delve into details of his love life that nobody knew he had. And until he understood where everyone stood on the subject, no matter the side, then he’ll tell them. Until then he’ll just have to sit on his and Launchpad's secret for a little longer.

_____

“Stupid Scrooge and his stupid company and his stupid employees and…” Donald was storming through the street on his way to McDuck Enterprises to check on Gyro and Fenton, per Scrooge’s request.

With his uncle running around he couldn't get Launchpad to give him a ride and he couldn't use his station wagon as Mrs. Beakley was fixing it, so he was left to walk to entire way.

As he entered the building and headed straight for the elevator Donald took this time to calm himself down before arriving at the underground lab. His anger did get the best of him from time to time, but he was at least glad that whenever he did blow up he went off on people that deserved it and not…

It was a sobering thought he considered all of the times he could’ve hurt any of them over stupid mishaps or mistakes. It was comforting to know that even in his angered state that he wouldn’t ever lay a hand on Huey, Dewey, and Louie. It would hurt him too much to do so.

As he settled his nerves the elevator doors opened, only for him to be drenched in water and shocked beyond belief.

“Fenton! How many times do I have to tell you, don't engage the Hydro Hose and Tazer _at the same time!!!_ ”

“Sorry Doctor Gearloose!” Shouted Crackshell, in the Gizmo Suit, as he rolled over to the elevator to see who was inside, “Oh! Donald, lo siento mucho! We weren't expecting anyone down here,” The metal-clad duck helped the ex-sailor to his feet as he guided him into the lab: A grey rounded room with plenty of windows looking into the depths of Duckburg bay with an upper floor and a single raised platform where the chicken Gyro Gearloose was standing.

“Correction: _You_ weren't expecting anyone. _I_ , on the other hand, have been planning to show the board of McDuck Enterprises my newest invention. Though I was expecting Mr. McDuck to come himself.”

Fenton helped Donald dry off as the ex-sailor simmered in anger before calming down a notch, “Scrooge is busying doing other things right now, so he sent me to come to get you.”

“I wouldn't really say ‘come to get me’ as I am only heading upstairs. More like you alerted me to my time.”

“Just get your stupid invention and let’s go.”

“Stupid?! I’ll have you know that…” Tuning Gearloose out, Donald rested his head against the cold wall of the elevator. It was taking everything in his power not to smack around the skinny idiot next to him for what happened in the lab. He didn't talk to Fanton, his assistant, often but he knew that whenever he made a mistake it was usually Gyro’s fault for not being clear enough or being too reckless with whatever upgrade he had for his tech.

 _‘An inventor who can't keep his inventions from turning evil… you have to be a complete moron for that to happen,’_ Donald smirked at the thought, which caught Gearloose’s attention.

“And what’s so funny?!”

 _‘You.’_ “Nothing, just laughing at a joke one of my nephews told me.”

_____

After getting Gyro to his meeting, and ultimately watching as the chicken failed at whatever he was trying to present, Donald headed down to the library to do some research on of The Tomb of Kar-lek before their trip next week.

There was surprisingly little about the tomb directly, only really mentioned in rumour by other explorers of other tombs. It seemed like everyone knew of this tomb, but nobody knew where it was or how to access it.

After hours of skimming through history textbooks, first account journals, and various other reading materials Donald uncovered that the tomb was supposedly located in in the mountains. He didn't go with the kids when they climbed Mt. Neverest, so this’ll be a new experience for him. He also found out that the tomb was over 700 years old, which had him worry about the integrity… but as long as the kids are safe it didn't matter to him.

Scrooge already knew all of this or he wouldn't have planned the trip, this research was more for Donald’s ease at mind.

As he put the last book he borrowed away and left for home in the seclusion he began to wonder if he would be brave enough to tell his family about him and Launchpad. The biggest secret he’s ever had to keep and now he was worried what would happen if they found out, _‘Anything but rejection… anything but that…’_

_____

He leaned against the wall as water beaded down his back. The warm shower water helped Donald calm down and soothe him whenever his mind was in turmoil, and the decision to tell his family about him and Launchpad was weighing on him lately.

It was ridiculous! It was 2017, this shouldn't be an issue!

But it was. It was for many people. People stuck in the past and not seeing the world shift and change.

Donald believed Scrooge to be one of those people out of assumption. It might make things awkward between _them_ , but Launchpad might be a different story. Launchpad works for his uncle and Scrooge could easily throw him out for this, or he won't but make his life harder, or- “Arg! Why is this so hard?! Why is Scrooge so hard to read?!” He screamed at nothing as he stood there for a moment longer before turning off the water.

As he towelled off he tried to push his conflicting thoughts aside or they were going to drive him crazy. As he changed and headed downstairs for dinner he saw that Scrooge had a flat screen rolled in, “What’s up with the t.v.?”

“Aye thought aye watch some news while we ate, gotta be something happenin’ in the world.” Donald nodded as sat down.

Once the kids all filtered in and Beakley served dinner- which was lobster- and everyone began eating only then did Scrooge turn on the news.

_“The Union Legislation passed at City Hall today, allowing those of transgender alignment to use any bathroom that they themselves choose. At the mayor’s office, Mayor Hogwilde, made no comment on-’ Click!_

Scrooge switched the channel to another news station going over the weather for the next week, “Aah! Lord almighty! Every time I turn on the telly it's always stuff like this, don't people talk about anything else?” Scrooge huffed as he angrily started eating.

The triplets and Webby froze as they didn't really know what to do in response to that. Everything about the Duck family was very… secluded in a way. Sure they interacted with a lot of people, but mostly it's due to their adventures.

Huey, Dewey, and Webby had a silent discussion as to what to say while Louie… Louie squirmed in his seat uncomfortably. 

“Uh, Uncle Scrooge?” Huey almost said in a whisper, taking charge of talking with Scrooge.

“Yes lad?”

“You know that kind of stuff is important to others right? The LGBT community has gone through many hoops just to be treated with some shred of respect,” Huey’s voice gains more confidence as he spoke, “Having their victories, in their eyes, dismissed isn't going to help anyone!”

“What? Dismissing? Lad what are ya- _Oh!_ ” Scrooge started chuckling, much to the kids’ confusion, “You’re confusing my words lad. I’m annoyed at _the news_ , not the stories they cover. If you lived as long as I have seein’ people still squabbling over simple things like this gets a bit bothersome. We're all people, so i don't understand why it's so hard to realize that everyone deserves the same basic rights as everyone else: use whatever bathroom, love whoever they want, get married to whoever they want, etc,” He took a few bites of his lobster, “Others need to evolve with the times instead of gettin’ stuck in a hole, is all.”

The two brothers and Webby were relieved with Scrooge’s stance, and he was right. Donald was also relieved and it made his decision in telling his family.

But nobody noticed that Louie stood up and had left with his dinner.

_____

Once dinner was finished and Beakley was cleaning up Donald headed for the door, throwing on his grey zip up, “Going somewhere, Donald?”

“Y-Yeah, I thought… I thought I’d go out and get a drink. I won't be long.”

“Okay, but don't stay out late.”

"I won’t,” Donald responded as he exited the McDuck Manor.

Walking to _The Drunken Quack_ wasn't that far of a walk, and it being 8 at night there were a lot of people bustling around the Nightlife that Duckburg had. As he entered the bar to be hit with pop music, chattering males, and the smell of alcohol wafting through the air.

 _The Drunken Quack_ was a gay bar.

Donald didn't go as much, he did come here from time to time when the triplets were younger. Once he sat down at the counter and ordered his drink- scotch on the rocks- he kept his hood up as he didn't come here to make friends, he came here to drink a bit and get out of the house.

So he drank.

And drank.

And drank, until it was getting close to midnight and Donald could barely see a foot in front of his bill.

And someone else caught onto that, “Hey, buddy, are you okay?” Donald tried swivelling to the source of the voice: a blurry mass of brown fur and soft looking muscles.

“ _Nah!_ Imma _fine!_ ” Donald drawled out before capping off the scotch in his hand and slamming the glass down.

The large dog chuckled, his deep voice booming, “Why don't I take you home? Huh, how’s that sound?” the dog offered, taking the glass from Donald’s hand.

“But… Hmmmm…. _Okay!_ ” Said a very drunk, surprisingly happy, Donald Duck

As the dog tossed Donald’s arm over his shoulder when the duck stood up from his stool he basically would’ve collapsed to the ground if he hadn’t been held, “ _Whoops! HeHe…._ ” The dog huffed as he got the duck to his feet and stumbled with him out of the bar.

The streets were quiet and secluded as few people passed by, drinking too much similar to Donald or completely sober and helping out friends who were drunk. The dog had said that his car wasn't far, and as the landscape stayed increasingly blurry for Donald there was a part of his mind still intact, shoved far in the back, that noticed something:

They had been walking for ten minutes.

Under normal circumstances, Donald would’ve asked where the dude’s car was, but in his incapacitated state he was “enjoying the ride” as some would say. Thing’s got increasingly worrisome when they pulled into an alleyway and the dog set Donald down slowly onto a pile of discarded rugs.

The large canine’s hands began caressing Donald’s arms and upper chest as a malicious grin form on his face, “You got a really good bod… I’m glad I helped you out.”

The unfamiliar touches were causing Donald to squirm in his semi-sleepy state, “Hmm… _Nooo…_ ”

“Oh don't worry duck… I’m gonna show you a time you won’t forget,” replied the dog to Donald’s denial, messing with the buttons in his sailor’s coat.

Donald’s arms felt heavy and useless as the dog finished unbuttoning him, “ANd seeing this is just… _fucking amazing…_ ” His, now, assaulter began kneading Donald’s core and sides, causing the duck to squirm more under the unwanted touch.

“...Can't… Have someone…”

“Yeah, _me_ ,” the dog growled, his hands caressing Donald’s back before travelling lower and lower and-

“Donald?”

The soothing, warm voice Donald’s mind enjoyed got him to reflexively turn towards the alleyway entrance to see a blurry mass of orange, brown, and white, “L-Launchpad?” Donald manage to say in a semi-normal way.

“Move along man, this doesn't concern you,” the dog growled as he stood full height.

“I think it _does_ ,” Launchpad growled back in a sort of possessive way Donald had never heard before, “Whatever you’re doing I can tell you he _doesn't want._ ”

“Oh yeah? Who says?”

“ _His boyfriend_ ,” Launchpad's growl deepened as Donald could make out the sound of cracking bones.

“You, his boyfriend? I’m a pretty good judge of character and I can tell you’re a few carrots short of a bunch.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you don’t seem too bright, and besides, maybe you should go out and look for another boyfriend to screw. This duck’s been _all over me_ all night, so i guess you’re not giving him what he wants,” The last sound Donald registered was fist colliding with face before darkness took hold.


	6. Chapter 6

Groaning, that’s how Donald woke up. Groaning.

His feathers ruffled, bloodshot eyes, and the ever throbbing headache of a hangover. He tried propping himself up, only to find it increasingly difficult as his bed swayed back and forth…

“Wait a minute…” Donald’s bed didn't sway, because it was impossible physics wise for his bed to sway. He rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times and tried looking around to see where he was, but whipping around too fast cause his headache to worsen.

“Ugh… Bad idea…” Rubbing his temples he kept his eyes shut in order to try to alleviate the pain.

Loud noises don't help either, but some just can't help it, “Donald, you’re awake!” Further pain was brought forth and the hungover duck was pulled into a bone-crushing hug, “I was starting to get worried.”

“Ack! Laun- Ah! Launchpad!” Came strained quacks in order to grab his boyfriend’s attention, luckily LP realized the problem and pulled back. 

“Oops… sorry,” even in his disoriented state Donald could still make out the smile on Launchpad’s face, along with the flush of embarrassment.

“I-It’s fine, just be careful next time.”

“Yeah… Oh, I almost forgot!” He left for a moment before coming back with a glass of water and aspirin, “here this should help with the headache. You should try not to overdoing next time with the scotch- I didn't even know you drank scotch!” Snickering, Launchpad pulled Donald into a softer hug before walking downstairs, “I’m making breakfast, so I hope you’re hungry!”

Donald enjoyed the over exuberance that Launchpad had, but something about the hugs he gave felt different… but with a pounding headache, it made it harder to figure out what just yet so he swallowed the aspirins with gusto and chased them with water. LP handed him more, since he only took two and still had four more, probably just for the rest of the day.

The sound and smell of turkey bacon hit Donald like a freight train having him water at the bill just thinking about it, and the thought of more of whatever Launchpad was cooking was causing his stomach to growl at an alarming volume, _‘Heh… guess I am pretty hungry.’_

With the headache subsiding, it finally registered with Donald why he had been swaying a bit: he was in a hammock. A faded orange hammock that was obviously built for someone larger than him with the way he sank into it somewhat.

This was Launchpad’s bed, but if this was his bed and he was sleeping in it… then where did Launchpad sleep?

“Launchpad?”

“Yeah?!” His voice carrying from downstairs.

“Where did you sleep?”

“On the couch down here! It’s pretty comfortable once you get situated!”

 _‘Oh…’_ Donald sadly thought as he stared into the glass of water he was still holding.

Truth be told, Donald was hoping that Launchpad had stayed with him during the night as they never really spent one with each other before, even during the six months they’ve been with one another. He did have much time to dwell on it as Launchpad came back, “So I came up to ask if you wanted to eat here of downstairs? I’m fine with whatever you pick.”

“Kinda hard to eat in a hammock, so I’ll come downstairs.”

“Cool! Let me help you out then,” he said, offering a hand. Donald took his offer and carefully crawled his way out of the hammock, careful not to spill the water in hand, but luck was never on Donald’s side. As he had thought he was completely free from the swinging cloth his foot got caught sending him sprawling forward, the only consolation was that Launchpad was there to catch him, “Woah! You alright there?”

“Yeah I’m fine,” turning back Donald glared at the hammock before properly standing up.

Only to realize the black muscle shirt Launchpad had on was completely drenched. Being higher up than normal Donald managed to spill the water all over Launchpad's chest and drenching the upper part of his shirt, “Oh damn! Launchpad I'm… I’m… _Oh_ ,” The wet shine for Launchpad's partially exposed pecs and seeing the wet part cling to his body… let's just say Donald liked what he saw.

Launchpad, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to his boyfriend’s gawking as he grimaced, “Aw man, I really like this shirt.”

“S-Sorry about that,” Donald sputtered out looking anywhere but Launchpad.

“No worries it’s just water, why don't you head on down and I’ll meet you after I change, okay?”

“Uh… yeah okay,” Donald spat out before briskly heading down. In actuality, he would’ve preferred that Launchpad leaves on the shirt, but at the moment he was too distraught by the way he was acting to voice such a thought.

As his headache began to fade Donald took the time to look around as he had never been to where Launchpad lived, only inviting him over to his houseboat when the boys were at school or when they, now, hung out from time to time at the Manor. Apparently, Launchpad lived in a decently sized old plane hangar with dim lighting and a manufactured living room he built. Donald also noticed a few rooms down the way one of which was probably a bathroom, so Donald took the chance to use it before Launchpad came back down. Taking the time to use the toilet, and calm down his more libido driven thoughts and reactions, he and once he felt levelheaded enough he left the bathroom.

Only to see Launchpad with no shirt on.

Well, it wasn't exactly that he didn't have a shirt on, but the white tank he had on almost matched his feathers exactly causing Donald to double take for a moment.

As Donald got closer he noticed that Launchpad was in the middle of flipping pancakes, but as he got closer he could hear his boyfriend humming a song, one of which he didn't recognize. As Donald took a seat on the candy red couch unnoticed he got to hear something he didn't know about the large duck.

Launchpad sang, “I am their Fury, I am their Patience, I am a Conversation”

“I am made o-o-o-o-of lo-o-o-o-ove o-o-o-o-oh, and it’s Stronger than You!”

“No-o-o-o-oh, O-o-o-o-oh, Lo-o-o-o-oh… And it’s Stronger than You,” Launchpad went back to humming the rest of the song, but the snippet Donald got had his head _spinning!_ He had always liked the sound of Launchpad’s voice, but this brought it to a whole new level. His slight baritone voice along with the smoothness it carried had his singing echo right down to Donald’s core, a beautiful mixture of powerful and soft.

Grinning like a love-struck idiot and sighing longingly got the attention of the large duck who had just finished cooking, “Oh, Donny! I didn't see you there, ready to eat?”

Donald nodded, having a plate of scrambled eggs, turkey bacon, and a stack of pancakes placed on his lap. Launchpad even buttered and syruped his pancakes, “If this is the kind of treatment I get when I stay over, then you should invite me over more often!” Donald cheered happily as he took a bite of his pancakes, warm and fluffy as they should be.

“Ha! Don't get used to it, I don't normally cook like this often. I thought you’d be needing it with the hangover you’ve got. We’ll get burgers later if you’re still hungry,” Nodding I agreement, Donald and Launchpad ate their breakfast in comfortable silence.

Once both ducks were done Launchpad took the plates and utensil, rinsing them under water, before sitting back down, “And don’t worry about Scrooge I already took the boys to school and dropped him off at his morning meeting, he said he won't be done there until two- it's 11 now- and since he didn't have anything else for me to do today,” Launchpad scooted further down the couch, pressing up against Donald just a tad, “You have me to yourself for the time being.”

Donald’s face flushed red, laughing nervously. Leaning up against his muscular boyfriend he just sat there for a moment, running his hand through his arm feathers, appreciating the warmth Launchpad emminated. He started drifting off...

Until it clicked: Donald was running his hand through Launchpad’s _arm_ feathers… Launchpad rarely wore anything that didn't cover his arms. Confused, Donald pushed back to examine LP: His arms were large and nothing but muscle- nothing that Donald didn't already know- but the fact he was just now noticing the bandages wrapped around his forearm and similar bandages running from his other shoulder into his shirt concerned the small duck. It got worse when he finally, fully, looked Launchpad in the face and saw a split beak, a partial black eye, and various cuts and bruises sprinkled about.

Donald was _mortified_ , “Launchpad… What happened to you?!”

It didn't take long for Launchpad to figure out what he was referring to, “This? This is nothing to worry about I promise.”

“Nothing to- Look at you! It looked like someone beat the crap out of you! When did-” An icy pit formed in the duck’s stomach as he froze: he didn't remember last night, he didn't remember how he got to Launchpad’s home, he didn't…

A sickening thought forced his way into Donald’s mind, “Launchpad… who did this to you?” No matter how calm Donald tried to be his voice was quivering.

It didn't help that Launchpad wouldn't look at him, “Donald, please, it's nothing to worry about really,” When Donald reached you Launchpad pulled back like he was just burned, “It’s my fault anyway.”

_It’s my fault anyway._

That declaration echoed in Donald’s mind as he began to shake uncontrollably, wrapping his arms around himself and casting his eyes to the floor. 

Donald didn't remember anything… and he wasn't sure if he wanted to, he already saw what _**he**_ had done. He didn't need to confirm memories.

Launchpad had his back to Donald as he raked a hand through his hair, but he noticed how quiet Donald had gotten he turned around to see the trembling duck, “Donny? Donny, what’s wrong?”

Reaching out, he stopped dead in his tracks when Donald spoke, “ _Don't…_ ” His voice full of fear and pain.

“Donald?”

“Don't… I don't want to hurt you… _not again._ ”

“Hurt me? Again? Donald what are you-”

“I’m not stupid McQuack! The evidence is right in front of me! And… And…” Donald lifted his head just enough for Launchpad to see the tears streaming down his face, “I don't need you to hide what I already know…”

Launchpad had never seen Donald so broken before and didn't understand why! He had no reason to feel this way, Launchpad didn't-

_I don't want to hurt you… not again._

_‘He thinks he did this!’_ “Donald no, hey, look at me,” when the duck didn't respond he grabbed by the shoulders and shook, “Look at me!” Donald tried avoiding eye contact, but the piercing stare Launchpad had was making it difficult, so eventually he gave in, “I need you to listen to my words _very carefully_ : You didn't do this.”

“But-”

“Stop! I’m not hearing this,” Launchpad’s authoritative tone was jarring to the smaller duck, so he obliged, “I want you to understand this right now: You _**didn't**_ do this. Tell me, what do you remember about last night?”

“U-Uh… I-I left the mansion… went to The Drunken Quack, drank and… waking up here.”

Launchpad had never been so relieved before for drunken amnesia, but he knew he had to tell the truth, “You drank, a lot. From what I pieced together you drank until midnight when…” His anger simmered but he forced it down. He didn't want Donald to see that, “when someone, a guy, offered to ‘take you home’,” relayed with a hint of disgust in his tone, “I went for a jog because I couldn't sleep when I... I… when I had found him with you and… and your clothes were opened up.”

A different kind of fear set into Donald’s stomach at what Launchpad was trying to tell him, “D-Did… Did he-”

“I caught him before he did anything else. Tried to convince me that you had been all over him all night and wanted what he was giving,” Donald tried to sputter out a denial when LP placed a finger on his beak, “I slugged him in the snout before he spat out anymore lies. The result of what happened afterwards, you can tell, is kinda on display. I managed to knock him out cold before I picked you up and brought you home.”

“Launchpad…” Donald caressed Launchpad's cheek as tears fought in the large fowl’s eyes.

“I wanted to beat him senseless, you know, for touching you, and I got pretty close. Nobody with any sense of morals should _**ever**_ do that to someone… especially someone so kind, and loving,” Donald caught the sense that Launchpad wasn't just talking about him, but he let it go for now.

As both ducks did their best to calm down- Launchpad that Donald was safe and Donald that he didn't lash out at Launchpad- the larger fowl took a deep breath before speaking, “I have something to show you.”

“Okay…” Donald responded, slightly confused at what LP meant. He got his answer as Launchpad leaned back started pulling off his shirt, “Woah, Woah, Woah! LP hold up!”

Launchpad was barely got it two inches off when he froze, “What?”

“I know you’re glad that I’m okay, but I don't think we should… you know… after what happened last night.”

Launchpad’s face flushed at what Donald thought he was doing, “Oh! Oh no, Donald, that's not- I wasn't- I was just…” Launchpad started laughing at the situation he just accidentally painted himself in. I was nice to laugh after what they just talked about, “I promise Donald that's not what I was planning. I just… I trust you enough to show you this.”

“Okay, but are you sure? I don't want you to do anything you don't want,” Seeing Launchpad without a shirt was a big step for the both of them, he wanted Launchpad to be certain of his decision.

“It's okay Donny, I’m sure. I just want you to understand me better,” he punctuated as he went back to peeling off his tank. What Donald saw he _certainly_ wasn't expecting. Scattered about Launchpad’s chiseled body and white feathers were the signs of damage: Burn marks mimicking the shape of knives and cigarette buds, scars that ranged from clean small lines to wide, jagged gashes that ran up the duck’s front and sides, what subsequented to _bullet holes_ , and others Donald couldn’t properly decipher.

Gawking at all the damage that riddled his boyfriend’s body he didn't know how to respond. Every time he went to examine further he pulled back, unsure of what to do. After doing this over and over for the last two minutes Launchpad cupped Donald's hands together, “Donald, it's okay, you can touch them. I trust you.”

Trust. He kept mentioning that word, trust. Something told Donald that it meant more to Launchpad than anyone else, and the fact he was placing it with him sent butterflies through the small duck. Eventually, he gained enough courage to trace a gash that led up near his collarbone. As he got closer to the top Launchpad hissed, as if it hurt, “Are you alright, does it hurt?”

“No, just a bit sensitive. Most of them are, some more than others.”

“And… the ones that _aren’t?_ ” Launchpad gave Donald something he never thought he’d see: a sad smile. Launchpad took one of his hands and guided him to one of the burns against the right side of his stomach- it almost looked like a bat- and rested him against it. The skin rough and the feeling of melted feathers twisted his guts, “Can't feel a thing.”

“Anything?”

“Anything. It's the same case with my back,” Launchpad turned around to reveal more damage Donald didn't see previously, similar just more burns, “Surprisingly the burns back there are _more sensitive_ than any of the cuts on the front. I’m shocked I fall asleep sometimes, but I guess I’m used to it.”

It didn't make sense, who would _do this_ to someone like Launchpad? The man’s nothing but sweet and kind!

Then a thought occurred, one Donald was scared to voice, “Launchpad… I’m gonna ask you something and I want an honest answer, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Did _you_ do this to yourself?”

“No.”

“Then who did?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“Launchpad-”

“I’m telling the truth,” he turned back around to look Donald in the face, “they’re all old scars, years old, so when I tell you it doesn't matter then it _doesn't matter._ You’re mine and I’m yours and the reason I’m showing you this is to tell you that with you around these ache just a little bit less,” he had Donald run his fingers through the thick feathers on his forearms- after removing the gaze- for the smaller duck to feel raised, thin bumps going across, “and that new ones won't _ever_ form again.”

“You said-”

“You asked about the ones on my body, not on my arms. I haven't done it since being hired by your uncle,” the smile that Launchpad usually wore blessed his beak, but seemed… _more real_ in a way, “and the thought of doing so hasn’t entered my mind since I met you. I may be strong, but you… you keep me grounded, you make me _stronger_.”

“Stronger than you?”

Launchpad laughed at the joke, “so you heard that, huh?”

“It was nice, how come I’ve never heard you sing before?”

“Embarrassment mostly wasn't sure if you’d get annoyed by it or not.”

Donald rolled his eyes as he pulled LP into a much-needed kiss. After he rested his forehead against LP’s, “I love it, and you.”

“I love you too.”

“Thank you for showing me, and even though I want to know more I won't push you. You’ll tell me when you’re ready, so this is enough for now,” he kissed Launchpad on the cheek before looking at him playfully, “Do I have permission to explore my boyfriend’s uncovered body?”

Launchpad kissed him on the beak once again, “Yes, you have permission. You’ll have it always from now on. Like I said: You’re mine and I’m yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure you guys can name the song launchpad sings... probably one of my favourites.


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of Friday was awkward to say the least.

After a very emotionally, and possessively, driven makeout/mild groping session the two in love duck took separate showers before getting ready. Donald’s clothes still smelled like scotch, and Launchpad didn’t have time to wash them, his large boyfriend let him borrow a shirt of his. The shirt, on the other hand, acted more like a dress than anything.

Launchpad got dressed in his normal working attire before ushering Donald into the limo and setting off to go get his uncle.

Scrooge was pleasantly shocked when he saw Donald, especially with the way he was dressed, but when Launchpad explained what happened- fudging some of the details- the old duck was satisfied.

Not that he didn't berate his nephew anyway.

When they arrived home the kids were very confused as to why Donald was wearing one of Launchpad’s shirts, but when they explained his escapade drinking at a bar and Launchpad bringing him back home to rest they were grateful their friend took care of their uncle.

The only one that wasn't completely convinced was Louie, but he didn't voice his thoughts otherwise.

By the end of the day, everything seemed as normal as it could be with the Duck household.

The only difference was the strengthened trust between Donald and Launchpad.

_____

Saturday, the start of the weekend.

Most children would be excited about the prospect of no school.

Not the triplets, never the triplets.

Saturdays were the days they spent hiding and running. Hiding and running from what, you may ask? Webby. Webby Vanderquack.

But it was futile, she knew every inch of the McDuck Manor and after much time with the boys, she knew them better than they probably knew themselves. She always found them. Always.

Getting pelted with foam darts was never fun, especially when the one shooting them is virtually a ghost with how well she knew the inner workings of the Manor.

Dewey had a plan. He always has a plan… well not always, but it was often enough.

They may be triplets, but when it came down to this it was war, “Webby! Come out! I promise not to shoot you if you don't shoot me because i have valuable information!”

The hall was quiet… Dewey didn't like quiet in this situation.

Quiet was bad, Warrior battle-cries were worse, and getting tackled to the ground was the absolute bothersome.

“Information you say? What does that entail Dewford?”

“Where my brothers are.”

“Oh? And you would sell out your own family, why?”

“Because Huey hides on the third floor in one of the artifacts rooms while Louie hides up in the attic behind the old mannequins. Let's face it, with them out of the way than me and you can duke it out. I’m easily the most formidable and with it being just the two of us then it could be a real battle.”

Webby seemed to consider this as the information stewed in her head, “Huh… I guess you’re right,” she then fired a flurry of darts all over the blue-clad brother, “you are the most formidable, so with you out of they the other two are easy prey. Thanks for telling me where they hide!” She called out as Webby began running away.

“But why did you- we made a deal!”

“ _You_ made a deal, I just never said if I accepted it!”

_____

As the kids began picking up all the darts they shot, Huey and Louie glared at their brother. He didn't even need to turn around to know that they were, “Guys I already said I’m sorry!”

“You ratted us out, that's not okay!”

“We trusted you with that info, and you _betrayed us_ ,” Huey threw a few darts at his brother, which bounced off his head.

The rest of the cleaning was done in silence, which was a little strange for Webby. After they all finished up she noticed that the triplets were still quiet, “hey guys, are you actually mad at Dewey?”

“No.” “Yes.”

“Well that's not helpful,” she muttered, watching Huey and Louie look at one another in confusion.

“I mean yeah,” Huey started, “I'm a bit upset, I can't use that spot to hide anymore, but I mean… it was smart on Dewey’s part.”

“Tsk, right you would believe that,” the green hooded brother spat under his breath, “You always end up taking his side.”

“Taking his- Louie it was just a game, you gotta do what you gotta do,” Dewey wasn't sure why his brother seemed so… weird.

“Louie come on, you’re saying that if you were in Dewey’s situation that you wouldn’t do what you could to gain for yourself?” Huey didn't understand why his brother was acting this way. It wasn't really like him. Louie didn't respond he just huffed before stomping off, leaving the brothers two and Webby behind clearly confused.

They’ve done this plenty of times since the triplets moved in with Scrooge and they’ve been in similar situations, but it was all in good fun. Something about this time though… something was off. Louie was usually laid back, so even if he won or lost he would just shrug and wear a lazy smile. He never got angry.

The remaining brother and Webby went over to the triplets’ room and tried to walk in, only to find the door somehow locked, “Louie, how did you- let us in!”

 _“No! Screw off!”_ Their brother shouted through the door.

“Louie let us in! It's our room too!”

_“What part of ‘screw off’ didn't you understand? I don't want to talk!”_

“Louie, it's Webby, what's up with you? You haven't been acting like yourself lately…” Expecting another shout to tell them off, what they _did get_ was the sound of the lock clicking and the door opening.

They all piled in quickly just in case he tried to shut to door on them again, only to see Louie plopping himself down on his bed face down.

“Louie… are you okay?”

He didn’t answer for a few seconds before rolling over, frustration knitted in his brows, “No, no I’m not.” The brothers and Webby all sat next to him, unsure what was wrong but ready to be there anyway.

“What is it bro? You know you can tell us, right?”

“Dewey if it was that easy then I wouldn’t be frustrated and giving you guys attitude, but here we are: everyone crowded around me because I can’t voice my own thoughts.”

The longer he talked the more worried the three became. Louie sounding so… pessimistic was something they’ve never encountered before.

“I just… there’s a lot going on up here,” the brother said gesturing to his head, “and I don’t really know what to do about it.”

“What brought this on? You seemed fine earlier in the week,” Huey reminded, placing a hand on his brother’s back for comfort, “But lately you’ve been acting weird.”

“Well… I… at dinner.”

“Dinner? What do you-“

“When Uncle Scrooge tried to watch the news,” it clicked with everyone what Louie was talking about. To say it was an awkward dinner would be an understatement. They had never really talked about the subject of LGBT in the house before, so hearing Scrooge- Albeit misunderstood- almost dismiss them was a little unnerving, but once he was cleared it up with everyone that he was upset at the slow pace of change and not the people it was very much a relief.

But even so, the kids still didn’t understand what Louie was upset about, “Louie if memories serve Uncle Scrooge didn’t say anything homophobic or bash the LGBT community, if anything I’m pretty sure he supports them!”

“That’s not the problem Huey!”

“Then what is?!” His brother wasn’t giving him any straight answers and it was starting to annoy him, even if he shouldn’t.

But it clicked with Webby with what Louie might be trying to say, “Louie, is there something you’re not telling us?” The fact that the green-clad brother stayed silent all but confirmed, in a way, what Webby believed to be the issue, “You know it's okay, right? Whatever you say we're here for you.”

Though the other brothers were, for the lack of a better word, lost they understood that something was bothering their brother and they wanted to help.

Louie didn’t say anything for a while before taking a deep breath and sighing, “I don’t know Webby… I don’t know,” he turned to Huey, “Ever since your talk with Scrooge my head’s been all jumbled up, and I can’t figure out why. I can tell something’s off, but I can’t pinpoint what… and I took my frustration out on all of you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright dude,” Dewey hugged his brother, “Whatever’s boning on with you we're here for you, Okay? Don’t you forget that!”

“Heh, Okay I won’t,” Louie’s lazy smile was back up, “but seriously, thanks. It means a lot.”

Webby crouched down and cupped his knee, “That’s what family is for.”

_____

Launchpad loved his job, he really did.

He was lucky enough to find something that kept his mind occupied when long forgotten thoughts tried to rear their ugly heads. Working for Scrooge was a constant distraction that Launchpad welcomed with open arms.

There wasn’t a lot that could set him off, but when something di and he was on job… let’s just say he’s spent lots of times biting his tongue until he got home to vent.

Sometimes there were things that annoyed him, other times it was things that embarrassed him, but there were those few times where what set him off… made him feel useless.

Worthless, In the way, Bothersome, Unneeded, etc. These were the feelings that forced his smile wider as he tried to cope. There were times that while getting ready for work he really didn't want to go. There were times where sitting in the seclusion of his home drove him mad and he needed to get.

Then there were the times where he felt that he would feel better if he… just _disappeared._

All it takes is one bad day...

But those thoughts dulled the longer he worked for Scrooge, where his smile wasn't always forced.

They became all but nonexistent when he met Donald. That truly brought a smile to his face.

Speaking of Donald that's who he was with throughout Saturday. He needed to pick up stuff for the houseboat in order to try to make it “triplet proof” as Donald said, making Launchpad smile when they went to multiple store and Donald to come back with rope, steel plates, and other assortment of items. He looked like he was setting up for war, which wasn't too far off when it came to Huey, Dewey, and Louie.

Thinking of the boys also brought a smile to Launchpad’s face, he adored them. They were all smart kids, but smart in their own way. Huey had knowledge of rules and plans, Dewey could take a bad situation and turn it in their favour, and Louie understood money and he could do to get it… just never acts on it. He loved those boys and was even more pleased that they enjoyed being around him.

Which was good especially since they were his pseudo-nephews.

One day he would enjoy hearing “Uncle Launchpad”, but for now he was content. 

_____

Returning to the Manor, Donald took all that he bought and immediately went to the boathouse while launchpad headed inside, being tackled by excited children, “Launchpad!”

All four of them clung to the large fowl’s arms, Launchpad swinging them around. He was glad for his strength because the kids weren't as light as he would’ve thought, “Geez, who is Mrs. B feeding you guys? Bricks?” He kept his arms up for a little while before the triplets and Webby swung on their own and pushing him to the ground when landing on his chest. 

They were all laughing when Scrooge came around to check on the commotion, “Ah, aye see you and Donald returned from your trip?”

“Yep! Donny took all the stuff he got and heading to the houseboat,” he eyed the triplets mischievously, “he’s trying to destruction proof it from you three,” he explained, causing all three boys to laugh nervously.

“Anyway,” changing the subject and looking back at his boss, “you got anything else happening today boss?”

“Just need to pop back in to check in on Gearloose and Fenton at the company, other than that no.”

“Perfect! We’ll head out whenever you’re ready, and after that, I’ll see you Monday?”

“Aye lad,” Though Scrooge didn't give Launchpad many days off, he had agreed to Sunday as per Launchpad’s request. Though hearing this the kids groaned.

“Really? We won't see you until Monday?’ Dewey whined.

“This blows! I feel like we don't get to see you other than when you’re flying the Sunchaser,” Louie complained, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket.

Launchpad felt a little bad. They really _did_ only see him a few times a day and only really hung out with him when they travelled. He enjoyed having them around, so he wasn't really sure what to do since he knew if he showed up at the Manor he wouldn’t put it past Scrooge to put him to work.

Until a thought occurred, “Well… you four could always hang out with me at my place tomorrow.”

“Really?” “Are you serious?” “We can hang with you?” “Ooh! That would be so cool!”

“Yeah it would be,” he said, looking up at Scrooge Beakley, and Donald- who just came back in to hear what he said, “ _but_ only if your Uncles and granny agree, so whaddya guys say?” The kids and Launchpad all stared at the three adults, the kids with more puppy dog looks.

Scrooge and Donald knew that Launchpad wouldn't lose any of them and Beakley understood the need for her granddaughter to get out of the mansion, even if was for a day.

“Well,” Beakley sighed, “as long as Webby’s safe then I don't see the issue.”

“Aye, the kids are in good hands with Launchpad, right Donald?”

“Mhm, it’ll be nice to have some quiet for once.”

The kids cheered with glee as they pulled Launchpad into a group hug, _‘Guess I’m playing host tomorrow…’_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank you all for checking out _Launchpad: The Mask we Wear_ , it means so much to me!
> 
> I just started writing this because I was having trouble with my other writings, but I'm so glad others are enjoying my work! Never in a million years would I think people would like what _I_ write, so I just want to say what wonderful people you all are!
> 
> And on that note here's a secret: When I post a chapter it usually means that I'm finished or close to finishing the chapter that is three ahead: i.e. I post Chapter 8, which means Chapter _11_ is or is close to being, done. I like to have a backlog of writing so I don't feel like I'm falling behind ;) Just trying to get all of it out before my head craps out on me and I have to "recharge" the next two days to two weeks... the brain sucks sometimes.

Even though Dewey had been to Launchpad’s place before the other three have not, and they were utterly floored by what they saw. It was no surprise to them that Launchpad lived in a plane hangar, but the size of it was quite baffling to them. I wasn't as big as the mansion, but it was still big for one duck to live all by himself.

While Dewey and Louie took up camp on his couch Webby and Huey were exploring every nook and cranny this place had to offer, “Launchpad this place is amazing!”

“Yeah,” Launchpad started as he got out of the car after picking the kids up, “I guess it is. It's not much but it's home.”

Launchpad fetched four sodas for the kids before heading upstairs to change out of his pj’s, “You guys want to do anything specific today? I only got a few things planned, so I’m taking requests.” After grabbing a red T-shirt and black jeans he headed down to his changing area he set up.

While he was changing Webby was scouring the home of the pilot to see if she could find anything interesting, wanting to know more about him, “I can't think of anything, but I’m sure the boys have something in mind!”

“Ooh, could you take us to Duckburg’s Technology Museum? I’ve always wanted to go, but Uncle Scrooge and Donald never want to,” Huey huffed from the other side of the hangar, trying to open the door to the room near the bathroom to no avail, “I hear it’s Duckburg’s history when it came to robotics and other technologies, it sounds pretty cool!”

“Pfft, _of course_ you would want to go somewhere nerdy,” Louie snickered, flipping through the channels, “we do stuff all the time, why can’t we just sit back and relax?”

“Because an object at rest tends to stay at rest while an object in motion tends to stay in motion,” Launchpad appeared in his casual attire, leaving his jacket unzipped and sans hat, “Newton’s First Law, and last time I checked out of the five of us three of us-”

“Four,” Dewey piped up.

“Correction: _four of us_ want to do go out. Sorry Louster, you’re outnumbered.” The youngest triplet groaned much to the amusement of the others. Before heading out though they did hang out for a bit so the kids could get used to being in the pilot’s home, and as Launchpad pulled out some _Darkwing Duck_ episodes Louie found his way upstairs and something caught his eye, “Hey Launchpad?”

“Yeah?”

“What's up with this?” He asked dangling a crisp, black suit over the railing. When the pilot looked up and saw what the young duck was holding his heart dropped into his stomach.

“Woah, Woah, Woah, hey! Be careful with that!” The large duck rushed upstairs and took the suit out of Louie's hands, albeit a little forcefully than he wanted to, “This suit’s expensive, can't be ruining it now,” he muttered as he placed it back where Louie found it.

“Why do you need a suit? And a fancy one at that, I don't think any of us have ever since you wear it,” the brother said gesturing to everyone else that came upstairs as well.

“Well… you never know when you might need one. You all have suits when you go out to places with Scrooge don't you?” The boys nodded, “it’s the same thing for me just… for other things.”

“Like what?” Webby asked, noticing that her innocent question had Launchpad squirming uncomfortably.

“For… my other job.”

“You have another job?”

“Yeah, but I only work part-time there. They usually call me in whenever they need me,” the large duck sighed before shaking his head, “but never mind that now, is everyone ready to go?”

The kids nodded, though the inkling of a mystery was now embedded in them. The mystery of Launchpad begins!

_____

Launchpad pad had taken them out to go get pizza, which the kids were eternally grateful for. They all loved Mrs. Beakley’s cooking, but sometimes the simple things were nice too. Their host paid for three pies: pepperoni, sausage, and cheese. It seemed like a lot, but the five of them polished them off in no time and it was interesting to the kids seeing Launchpad eating much more than the rest of them. It made sense, though, since Launchpad was a big dude and as such, he needed to eat more.

Once the kids finished with their breakfast-lunch they headed off to the Duckburg’s Technology Museum. The museum was huge and laid out like any other that you’ve been too, just with a little more of an open floor plan. 

Huey was enraptured by the ancient machines and gizmos that surrounded him, from old milling machines to failed tech from Mark Beaks. It was quite the sight to behold.

Webby and Dewey we're interested as well while Louie had done nothing but scroll through his phone, much to Launchpad’s dismay. He knew that the youngest triplet wouldn’t be interested in this but at least he could’ve tried to feign interest. It bothered Launchpad to the point where he was about to take Louie’s phone, but stopped short, _‘What am I doing? I’m not… I technically don't have the power to do that,’_ he thought as he tried going about this a different way, “Louie?”

“Hmm?”

“Could you, maybe, put the phone away for now? I know this might not be the most exciting for you, but could you at least try to find interest? For me?” Launchpad gave his best big-eyed look to the brother. Louie bounced between him and his phone before sighing and putting it away.

“Alright, only ‘cause you asked LP.”

“Thanks little buddy!” He said with a pat on his back.

The two managed to fall behind the others and when they found them they were awing over the “History of Robotics” Gallery. The machines ranged from bulky to slim and proficient and each one had its own history plaque that mentioned who built it and for what purpose. Louie seemed genuinely interested in this part as he was going around with his siblings checking out the different exhibits, which brought a smile to Launchpad's beak.

As he explored he came across the “Recents” section that displayed robots built in the last ten years from modern engineers and what had him chuckling was seeing that most of them were donated by Gyro, “What’s so funny?” Huey asked.

Turning to the kid that he didn't see show up he continued to grin, “Just thinkin’ everything’s Doctor Gearloose has done. The Laws of Robotics state that a robot may not injure a person or, through inaction, allow a person to come to harm. A robot must obey orders given it by others except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. And a robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law. Seeing how Gyro manages to routinely, somehow, ignore these is utterly baffling to me! It really shouldn't be possible and- What?” Launchpad noticed that Huey's, as well as the other kids, bills had fallen open while he was talking, and he didn't understand why.

“What's with the looks? Do I have something on his face?” The pilot asked, wiping over his bill to see if there was any leftover pizza from earlier, only to find nothing.

“No, LP it isn’t that, it's just… why do you know the Laws of Robotics?” Asked Dewey, getting similar nods from the rest of them.

It was then that Launchpad realized his mistake, “W-Well, er, uh, you know… There was something about it when we walked in.”

“But we've been here for two hours. I don't even remember what I read that far back,” Huey voiced, the others agreeing.

“Well… I guess I have a pretty good memory, heh,” the pilot laughed nervously as the kids seemed much more interested in him now than the museum, “b-but let's not go into that now, why don't we go out for ice cream before heading to the next spot I have planned. How’s that sound?” The prospect of ice cream seemed to distract the kids, for the moment, giving Launchpad to breathe a sigh of relief, _‘Gotta be careful…’_ Not realizing Dewey was watching him with intrigue.

As they left the museum and headed to his favourite spot, _The Cold Churn_ , he ordered a Mega Sundae for the five of them to share. It was 30 bucks, but for it being half the size of one of the kids and twice the width it was pretty worth it. It had four bananas, three large scoops of whatever flavours they chose- vanilla, mint, and butterscotch-, drizzled in not fudge, and covered in nuts. 

All four kids lit up with excitement when Launchpad brought it over and began digging in, shocking the large duck before digging in himself to catch up. They all got about halfway when brain freeze hit them all at the same time, causing simultaneous groans and laughs echo throughout the entire group.

It was a good time!

Once they finished up Launchpad drove them to their next stop, which was a climbing gym called _Cliff Climbers_. Walking into the facility the kids were in awe of how tall the ceiling was as well as the vast complexity to the climbing walls, various colours for varying difficulties and such. Some were simple vertical climbs while others contained ledges and underside grips. It was all pretty cool, “Now _this_ is what I’m talking about! You’re the _man_ Launchpad!”

“Heh, thanks Lou. I’d figured you guys might enjoy this, and from what I’ve seen from Webby she’s got quite the knack for climbing.”

“Well yeah, but not like this,” Webby frantically gestured to everything around her, “this is completely different!... I love it!” The duck jumped up and held tight to the fowl’s neck, “Thank you!”

“No prob Webster, come on, let's get set up,” Launchpad said as he guided the kids over to the check-in desk, “Hey Veronica!” The receptionist was a dog with light beige fur, carmel eyes, and full, shiny black hair.

“Oh, Launchpad, good to see you! This isn't usually when you come here, special occasion?”

“Yep! It just so happens that I have four special guests with me,” he proudly proclaimed as he waved a hand below him, “Veronica, meet Huey, Dewey, Louie, and Webby! Kids meet Veronica, the manager and part-time couch here at Cliff Climbers!”

“Heya!” “Nice to meet you!” “What's goin’ on?” “How do you do?”

“Well, I certainly wasn't expecting this, hello there kids!” Veronica said as she waved at the colour-coordinated children, “And am I assuming right that they’re not yours?”

“Uh huh, they’re kids of two friends of mine. The boys are triplets while Webby here is the granddaughter of one of my friends. The munchkins here wanted to get out of the house for a while, so I told their guardians I’d watch them for the day.”

“Aww, that's so sweet of you! So four youth and one adult?”

“Right!”

“Alright then,” the dog reached down and pulled out several harnesses, “here you go, have fun!”

“Thanks, Veronica, you’re the best!” Launchpad complimented before ushering the kids off over to the benches to get ready. While LP was getting the kids all strapped up Louie gave him a knowing smirk, “So… you come here often, huh?”

“Yeah, one of the things I do to stay in shape.”

“Which means you see that Veronica lady often huh?”

“Well yeah,” Launchpad finished up Huey when he started on himself, “she owns the place so I would see her often,” Launchpad fixed up his harness and grabbed a bottle of water he packed and took a drink.

“She your girlfriend?”

The kids, other than Louie who was hysterically laughing, were freaking out because Launchpad spit out his swig and started violently coughing. They also noticed how red and flustered he looked once he found it in himself to get his breathing under control, “W-What?? N-No she isn't m-my girlfriend!”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

Launchpad looked completely dumbfounded, “ _Aren't you twelve?_ Why are you interested in my love life?”

“Eh, keeps the day interesting,” Louie admitted before walking off to the easier walls.

Launchpad’s jaw dropped before turning back to the others, “Is he always like that?”

“Yeah.” “Pretty much.” “You’re the one that offered to hang out with us.”

Launchpad was left stunned… before howling with laughter. Only half a day with the kids and this was turning out to be one of the best weekends he’s ever had, it was crazy! It was so nice to have company and company that's so diverse too! It was a treat and a half and Launchpad was grateful for it.

As the group split up went about doing their own walls Dewey had been watching Launchpad and what he was doing. There were five levels ranging from easiest to hardest: green, yellow, orange, red, and purple. He had watched Launchpad latch himself to the safety rope before powdering his hand then going at it. He was amazing when Launchpad leapt up and grabbed onto grips as he dangled four feet above the air, from there he swung until he got good footing before crawling up the wall with ease: leaping ledges and dangling parallel with the ground without any issue.

He made it looked so easy… so, naturally, Dewey wanted to test a theory.

He took up a purple course, latched in, and began climbing. At first, it seemed like a simple vertical climb, but things soon grew more difficult as the wall began to curve over him. He was lucky enough that their recent adventures with their great uncle have strengthened parts of him, mainly his stamina and grip.

As the young duck climbed his way to a “standing” position he looked over to see his best friend _nearly 12 feet above him!_ It was insane, and a challenge Dewey took.

After adjusting his grip he pushed himself to move faster than ever as he climbed, leapt, and hung…

Until his grip slipped.

The world felt like it was moving in slow motion as he tried to regain his grip to no avail. He watched as the other saw him falling, while his brothers were snickering Launchpad looked worried.

It only got worse when the sound of snapping metal could be heard and Dewey felt himself swinging before having his side embedded into the edge of the climbing wall with surprising force. The edge wasn't super sharp, but it was broad enough that pain racked through his entire body and he cried out in pain.

“ _Dewey!_ ” he heard his guardian roar as he slowly spun around the rope before hitting the ground with a small thud.

Immediately his siblings and guardian ran to his said while Webby ran to get a first aid kit, “Dewey, hey, are you alright? Where does it hurt?” The young duck pointed to his left side and as Launchpad pressed his hand into it just a bit he winced in agony before curling up, “S-Sorry.”

Webby came back with a kit as Veronica trailed behind, “What happened?!”

“I don't know, he was climbing just fine when he lost his grip. I thought that safety rope would have caught him until he swung violently into the rock wall.”

Veronica crouched down as she inspected Dewey’s harness, finding the broken rope hook link snapped in two, “Sonnva… I found the problem. His harness had a faulty hook link, and since this set wasn't labelled for repair _someone_ failed to do so and just put it back. Launchpad, I’m so sorry this happened.”

“No, It's fine. I’m just gonna check him out and get something to make him feel better, it was fun while it lasted.”

The kids got off their harnesses, returned them, and helped Dewey to one of the benches off to the side, “Hey, Dewey, can you lift your shirt? I need to see if what we're dealing with,” Dewey obliged, lifting his shirt and showing his family the huge red area that covered most of Dewey’s side, “Ooh… that's not good. _But,_ ” even though Dewey was wincing when Launchpad pressed into his side when Launchpad travelled around it didn't seem like anywhere else was in pain, “the good news is that you don't seem to have any serious damage. Just a pretty bad hit and an enormous bruise to show for it. It should be fine after a week or two,” LP was relieved that his best friend wasn't hurt, but then another thought came to mind, “So… would you mind not mentioning this to your uncles and Mrs. B? I promised I’d keep you safe and if they found out about this then I’m pretty sure that B will defeather and skin me alive, so could you _please_ not tell them?” LP clapped his hands together and looking at the blue-clad brother, begging.

Dewey knew it wasn't his fault, and he didn't want to see Beakley kill Launchpad, so he agreed, “No problem Launchpad. And besides, it's just a bruise- albeit a big one- so no harm done.”

“Thanks!” Launchpad pulled him into a tight embrace before looking back at the other kids, “and that goes for all of you too!”

“Alright.” “Fine by me.” “Your secret’s safe with us!”

“Good, so why don't we go out for a second helping of ice cream?”

_____

After getting comfort ice cream, Launchpad drove a little out of the ways from Duckburg and where they were going the kids didn't know. The drive was only 30 minutes when they came up a cliff and Launchpad parked the limo. Confused they follow the large duck as he walked the path all the way to the top and stood near the edge.

It was then that he dug into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a rosary simplistic in design and made of mahogany. As launchpad wrapped it around his right hand he dug into his other pocket and pulled out a silver coin before tossing it into the sea that the cliff overlooked. He then kneeled down on one knee and held out his hands, cupped around the rosary, and closed his eyes, “With the sky fair I give an offering in exchange for one wish: For as long as I fly I and those around me will come to no harm, for as long as _I_ am in control. Fly high and fly fierce!”

As Launchpad opened his eyes back up he positioned himself to sit and just like over the sea. The triplets and Webby stayed back as Launchpad did his business as it seemed like something that shouldn't be interrupted, but once he finished they approached, “Launchpad,” Webby began, “I didn't know you were religious.”

“Well, kinda but not really. My parents were the ones who were more about that, but my mom taught me that custom prayer. They used it when they wanted to feel reassured about a performance, so they would come back unharmed.”

“‘Come back unharmed’? So I guess you’ve been doing this since we started adventuring?” Louie asked.

“Every Sunday, it’s supposed to last all week.”

“Well, since the plane's the only thing that's broken down then I guess you’re doin’ something right LP,” the youngest triplet commented, patting the pilot on the back.

The group sat there as they admired the crashing of the wave below when it clicked with Huey, “Wait, you said your parents did that prayer before a performance, what did you mean by that?”

“Oh! They were stunt pilots, _The Flying McQuacks!_ Their shows were something to see… my sister, Loopy, got to do a few smaller acts when she got older but nothing more than that. I always wanted to do an act, but I was too young at the time.”

“Young? How old are you Launchpad?”

“29, my birthday’s in two weeks from Tuesday. I was the youngest out of my family: There was my parents, me, my sister, and…” Launchpad trailed off, the look in his eyes dulling just a bit before snapping out of his funk, “anyway, we're pretty well known. Do you guys want to see some of their acts? I think people have uploaded videos of their performances.”

“Sure! That sounds awesome!” Webby cheered the triplets in agreement. Launchpad smiled as he pulled out his phone, searched up his family, and pulled up a few videos they watched as the waters crashed beneath them.

_____

The sun was just beginning to set as Launchpad pulled up to McDuck Manor and carried the sleeping children inside.

The three adults greeted him quietly as Mrs. Beakley guided him to their rooms to drop them off. After tucking in the final triplet, as Beakley took Webby, Launchpad looked back at the three with a warm smile. It warmed his heart how young they all looked when they slept, and as he closed the door to the room he would carry that image with him forever…

But that didn't mean the kids stayed sleeping. Once everything was cleared the boys rose from their slumber, “So… what did you guys think?” Asked Huey.

“One of the best days, but something’s itching me that I want to scratch,” answered Louie.

“I know what you mean. There’s something Launchpad isn't telling us,” Dewey relayed.

“What do we do?”

“What we do best: investigate ourselves.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This song is for later in the chapter and should be, probably, play it when you read "This continued for a...":[ Frank Sinatra _My Way_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6E2hYDIFDIU) **(Right Click it and open in separate tab- don't want to close your reading! And there are breaks in the song for storytelling, just to let you know, you might have to pause a couple times...)**

_No need to come in._

That’s what the text said.

Launchpad was pretty bummed about that. As he got ready his other job’s boss had texted him telling him that he didn’t need to come in, which had the large duck sad for the fact. His suit was nice and pressed and everything, that’s one of the reasons why he didn’t want Louie touching it.

As he zipped up his jacket he shoved his phone in his pocket before driving off for McDuck Manor. Once he got out front he parked the limo and stood outside checking the time: 7:55, as always.

The boys didn’t have school today- some holiday the school celebrates- so all Launchpad’s business was with Scrooge today.

Today was more of those mundane ones where Launchpad just had to get Scrooge to places, pick up some things, move to the next spot, and repeat. Since it was going to be a slow day that also meant it was going to be a long day, which LP wasn't too fond of. Not that he really complained, he loved working for Scrooge and it also gave him the opportunity, now, to see his favourite duck and his boys.

Again, Launchpad found himself drifting towards the thoughts of Donald and the triplets. It probably had something to do with what happened with Donald and when Dewey got hurt the previous day, but he couldn't really get them out of his head.

He loved them all, even if most of them didn't know. Donald gave him someone to look forward to being with and the boys gave him something to do when the days seemed dull, fueling his life with passion and excitement!

And of course he couldn't forget about Webby, after all, she was family just like everyone else. His unofficial honorary niece was always so energized that he found himself trying to catch up whenever they went on an adventure, but it was nice. Webby was always so much fun to be around that Launchpad couldn't help but smile.

A smile unprompted otherwise in Scrooge’s eyes, “Lad? Are you alright?”

“W-Wha- Oh, yeah! Just thinking is all,” Launchpad answered snapping back to reality.

“Thinkn’ about your lass?” Scrooge inquired as he stepped back into the limo, coffees in hand as he handed one to Launchpad.

“Kinda, I’m thinking about one of their cousins. She always so perky and fun to be around, her and the others are hard to keep up with when I have to watch them.”

“Aye, kids’ll do that. Aye don’ know where it all goes when they age, but kids always seem to bounce off th’ wall when they’re younger.”

“You don't know the half of it Mr. McDee! They’re all a lot to handle, but I always enjoy the time I have with them.”

“Do you visit her family often?” An innocent question, yes, but for Launchpad it closed his throat.

“N-No, not really. I just… get to see them on my day off. I… didn't get to see them this time since the triplets and Webby wanted to hang out,” Launchpad spat out, trying to make sure he didn't sound like he was talking about the exact same group of kids. His pausing, in his mind, didn't help his cause, but luckily Scrooge didn't pick up on it. 

“A shame, from what you’ve talked about it sounds like they and the kids would get along fine.”

“Yeah… they sure would,” LP muttered keeping his eyes trained on the road.

“I’ve been meaning to ask: What do you and the youngins do yesterday?”

Launchpad lit up, “Oh what isn't there to tell! First, the kids and I were at my place watching Darkwing Duck then…” Launchpad began relaying the day to his boss, and the longer he talked, even though he couldn't see, Scrooge’s smile grew and grew the longer he went on.

_____

Fortunately for the brothers they didn't have school that Monday which meant they were able to sleep in. By the time they got up, however, all three of them were in full planning mode when it came to figuring out Launchpad.

They grabbed Webby once she got up and with her involved things started really taking off!

They had small little bits about Launchpad that didn't quite add up: His intelligence, His family, and what he does when not with the Duck family. All four kids noticed how smarter Launchpad seems to be, which didn't really match with what they already knew. At times he would make simple mistakes, or cracks jokes when it never seemed to be the time, or was oblivious to certain situations. His near perfect recite of the Laws of Robotics, coupled with how he talked about Gyro’s inventions, seem to lead that he understood more than he let on.

Then there was his family. Upon doing research they discovered many positive articles and recommendations of _The Flying McQuacks_ and their show as a whole, which led to them figuring out more about their favourite pilot. He had been born in St. Canard and that's where he lived up until five years ago. Since then there hadn't been any records of Launchpad until he started working for Scrooge a year after moving to Duckburg.

They had also stumbled across an arrest report of a McQuack, but it didn't include a first name or sex, and since it seemed to be filed in 2004- which didn't really add up for Launchpad- they labelled it as miscellaneous and moved on.

And with asking him about anything was out of the question it had those first two items dead end, which only left Launchpad's mystery job.

“Okay, so what do we know about this other job Launchpad has?” Huey asked, looking over everything they’ve plotted about the large duck so far.

“We know that it's part-time and that he only goes a few Mondays out of the month, we know he wears that suit Louie came across, but other than that nothing,” Webby recited, “I mean, we only just found out that he had another job just yesterday, so we don't have much to go on.”

“Well then what are we supposed to follow?” Dewey asked with mild frustration, “Launchpad doesn't fully live here, so his stuff isn't here, and anything we could look at is back at his place, but I think he would realize that someone got into his place and snooped around. Not to mention out Uncles and Webby’s grandmother would tear us to shreds if they found out we left.”

“Then… what do we do now?”

“Well we do have this,” Louie added- not talking for the past two hours they were working- before pulling out a playing card and business card and sliding them in between everyone. Everyone stared at the two new pieces of evidence before looking back at Louie with open beaks, “What?”

“Where did you get these?” Huey asked while holding up both cards.

“They were in the pocket of Launchpad’s suit, I was curious so I took’em,” the youngest triplets reached over and plucked the business card from Huey’s hand, “look: _The Singing Bird- Pool Hall and Jazz club. “Where one’s come to drink, gamble, and have a good time!_ Now, judging by how Launchpad acts, I doubt anything super grown up happens here so that last part probably refers to music and such. And seeing that LP had a playing card in his suit jacket he might be a dealer or some such at a poker table there and- What?”

Again, his brothers and Webby were looking on with awe as the green-clad brother riddled off information, “Are you just gonna gloss over the fact that you stole these from Launchpad?”

“Eh, I doubt he’ll miss them. He probably won't even know they’re gone, and this stuff’s super common so it probably won't even make a difference.”

“O-Okay, moving on,” Dewey said as he shook himself out of his funk, “well it's good to know now where exactly Launchpad works, questions is how do we get there?”

“You know we have phones, right? We can just plug in the name of the club and follow directions there, easy,” Louie said nonchalantly as began scrolling through said phone.

“I get that, Einstein, but when would we leave? It would have to be after dark since, you know, it's probably a nightclub. How do we sneak out without anyone noticing?”

“It's gonna be more of when they find out we're gone,” Webby said, “When Launchpad leaves then we should wait an hour before going after him, we could make bed decoys to make it look like we’re still here, but that’ll only fool granny for so long.”

“Good thinking Webby! So... I guess we wait.”

_____

4 o’clock, usually the time Scrooge came back from running around if he wasn't held up or roped into going to banquets. The kid watched from the 2nd-floor balcony towards the front door when they watched the knob turn and Scrooge and launchpad enter, “Well lad, I have to say that it’s been a productive day even if it was a wee boring.”

“Not a problem Mr. McDee! Always happy to help!”

“And am I to assume that you won't be available for the rest of th’ day?”

“Actually, not this time boss. I got called off when I was getting ready today and-” he was cut off by the ringing in his pocket, “hold that thought,” Launchpad said before answering his phone, “Hello? Oh, Ricky hey! What’s up?”

“…”

“But I thought you said-”

“…”

“What happened with the other guy? And Wasn't Crissy also covering my shift?”

“…”

“Oh.”

“…” 

“ _Oh._ ”

“…”

Launchpad sighed, “Alright, I’ll be down there at 6. Yeah. Bye,” Launchpad ended the call and looked back at Scrooge sheeply, “I guess I do have to go in, sorry about that Mr. McDee.”

“Ah, think nothing of it lad. If your other job needs you then it needs you, don't apologize. I’ll see you tomorrow at 8.”

“Always Mr. McDee!” Launchpad cheered before exiting the Manor.

The kids scurried off to the triplets room, so Scrooge didn't notice them watching. Launchpad was heading to his other job at 6, which meant they’d have to be out of the house by 7. Early dinner it is.

_____

They managed to convince Mrs. Beakley, Donald, and Scrooge to eat earlier and even though the adults were a little wary of the request they didn't think too far about it. Once dinner was eaten and the kids headed off the bed they stayed there for a while until they were sure that Beakley wouldn't come around, from there they piled pillows together, covered them in their clothes, then inched their way out of their respective rooms.

The boys met up with Webby by one of the windows on the side of the Manor and latched onto her as she pulled out her grappling hook and fired away. As the hook wrapped around a tree branch, the kids swung out, with surprising ease, before climbing down the tree and rushing towards the front gate of McDuck Manor.

From then on they were on their own.

Louie typed up the place on his phone and had the group following the direction it was giving them, leading them further and further into the city. The lights of DuckBurg shines brilliantly against the dark waters of the ocean and bay while they glistened off of the buildings below. The sun had pretty much set, leaving only a slight shine or red on the horizon, and as night blanketed over the chill of the night set in.

The brothers two and Webby zipped up their jackets as Louie burrowed further into his. There weren't many people around, so it made it easier to travel around without getting stopped. But as the group continued their trek to find their pilot's second job they took note of their surroundings.

The further they travelled the dirtier the streets got and the businesses looking more rundown. Fewer people filled the already empty looking streets, and those who stuck around didn't seem… all too friendly to kids. The kids sped up their walk as they past boarded-up shacks and dark alleyways, continuing to follow Louie’s phone- which he tucked away slightly- until they spotted what they wanted.

The McDuck limo.

The area wasn't completely rundown, but even so the limo, when the kids checked, was locked up in any which way. Behind the limo was a set of stair leading down to a solid steel door and a thinner alleyway than the main ones, “We're here! Okay… How do we get in?”

“What?! Dewey, we've been walking for almost 90 minutes and you’re just now trying to come up with a plan!” Huey flapped his arms wildly in whispered irritation, “This is ridiculous!”

“Aren't you the oldest by three seconds, why aren't you coming up with a plan?”

“Because…” Huey trailed off, anger dying out as his brother had a point, “because I wasn't thinking about it?”

“And they say Louie’s the dumb one,” The two duck brothers began bickering and attacking each other while Louie, of all people, tried being the civilized one. Meanwhile, Webby snuck away for a moment and checked out the thin alley. Without being noticed she watched as two people- a dog couple- walked down and knock on the door three times. She wasn't close enough to hear but she assumed they gave some sort of phrase to enter or had reservations of some sort before they entered the club.

 _‘Well that doesn't help… how are we going to get the passphrase?’_ Webby calmly thought trying to formulate a plan. Until she looked down and saw exactly what she wanted to see.

Making her way back to the boys, who were still fighting, she tossed herself in the middle of them, “Hey, stop it! This isn't helping! Look, neither of you had a plan: I do.”

“Oh yeah?” Huey quizzed, “Whaddya got?”

“We would need as passphrase in order to enter the front door, but even if we got it we would be thrown out because we're kids. So… I kept looking and I spotted a door further down and saw what a cook dump some trash out.”

“Okay… What's your point?” Louie asked, missing Webby’s thought process.

The young duck rolled her eyes before finishing, “A service entrance! That's how we’ll get in! It doesn't seem locked, so we can sneak in and make it through the kitchen- where it probably leads- and get to the main floor!” Webby was visibly excited by the prospect of sneaking into somewhere and the fact it’s going just like she saw in actions movies had her heart soaring! The triplets looked at one another in surprise of how much Webby was able to figure out and they were impressed. Not only would the plan work but since they were small in a way they could sneak by others without a problem- not much of one anyway.

As the duck brothers came to an agreement they looked back at Webby, “Your plan, you lead.”

_____

Webby was right about the service door being unlocked and right about how it led into the kitchen. What they didn't account for, however, was the bustling movement from the cooks and waiters, if anything the constant movement would get them caught faster… so they found a vent and crawled into it like any normal kid.

As the group shimmied through the small metal space through the grates they came across every so often the sounds of smooth jazz and poker chips filled their ears, the sound of laughter and roars proved the place was pretty busy.

Finding an exit, the kids popped out of the vents, stood, and looked around at their new surroundings: The glow of amber light reflected off the finished hardwood surfaces, smooth archways and pillars gave off a sense of bigger, and the layout of poker and dinner tables was chaotic as much as it was clean and pristine. The upper floor had even more dinner tables, and the big kicker was the stage with the jazz band playing next to it and filling the entire place with comforting music. It was _beautiful!_

It was almost too much to soak in at once… until the sound of familiar hearty laughter broke through the sound of saxophones and conversation.

“Ah, damn! You got me again!”

“Sorry Danny, House wins,” their favourite pilot voiced, calm and collected as he fetched the card lying about in his table. Launchpad was dressed in a simple white button-up and black vest with a similarly coloured tie, “You wanna go again? The night’s still young and you usually don't give up until you win five times in a row.”

“You’re damn right McQuack, deal me in!” The dog Launchpad was talking to was a burly fellow, chocolate fur, and a large leather overcoat on his shoulders.

The boys and Webby did their best to stay out of sight, both of Launchpad and the other adults, as they observed the large duck. Louie’s assumption was right, he was a dealer. And a pretty good one from how the canine was reacting.

They all watched in awe at how easily Launchpad shuffled the card up in the air like he had done it a thousand times, before flicking them to every occupant at his table, which was the dog Danny and two others. Huey figured they were playing _21_ by how the occupants asked for hits or decided to stay with what they had.

Dewey and Webby were on lookout duty to prevent themselves from getting caught either by Launchpad or by someone else, and both had noticed the very _beautiful_ ladies, wearing form-fitting dresses, as they walked around serving and collecting drinks. It had both of their faces heating up with embarrassment with how young they were and what these women were wearing.

Louie noticed the waitresses as well, but that was not the only thing that caught his eye and causing it to drift.

Snapping out of his day reaming he caught wind of a woman coming around and wrapping her arms around launchpad’s neck, “Ooh… You enjoy tearing people down, don't you LP?”

“Hey, it's all the luck in the cards,” he said nonchalantly as one of the occupants asked for a hit, only to bust, “tough break.”

Louie and the kids watched as the lady caressed Launchpad for a bit, but he gave no indication of moving into it, and after a few minutes the woman scoffed playfully and smacked his shoulder, “You’re no fun! I flirt with you all the time, but you don't _do_ anything!”

“Pfft, I already told you Dee that I have someone now. It would feel weird to flirt back at you now.”

“Yeah… but I got to myself somewhat occupied while on break,” Just then calls to her could be heard from across the club, “Damn… guess breaks over, see you later Launchpad.”

“Seeya Dee!”

The kids watched Launchpad for almost twenty minutes, moving around so they didn't get caught by anyone, and ended up near the empty stage when they heard Launchpad’s phone go off. Pulling it out and silencing the alarm he sighed defeatedly, “Sorry guys, table shift’s over,” their groans could be heard by everyone in the club, “It's how it is fellas, someone else can keep you playing but I gotta back up.”

“You performin’?” Danny asked.

“Yep! Gotta get changed.”

“Well… I guess I’m done for the night, but that don't mean I ain’t staying for you- you're probably the best one here!”

“Aww, thanks Danny!” Launchpad said before heading off to the back. The kids were visibly confused.

“Where’s he going? And what performance?” Louie questioned.

“Maybe he switches out with one of the band members, maybe he plays an instrument,” Webby spitballed. They talked about this for a little while until the lights dimmed all around the club. The sound of dropping chips and laughter simmered to almost a complete stop as they turned their attention to the stage. In an instant, a spotlight was shined on the vacant microphone when out stepped-

“Launchpad?!” The children said in unison, seeing their pilot with slicked-back hair and wearing his black suit with a black bowtie and ruby red shirt.

The band started playing: smooth, simple, and a beautiful melody. This continued for a few moments before Launchpad cleared his throat and stepped up to the mic:

“ _And now, the end is near; And so I face the final curtain._ ”

“ _My friend, I’ll say it clear…_ ”

“ _I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain._ ”

“ _I’ve lived a life that’s full. I’ve travelled each and ev’ry highway._ ”

“ _And more, much more than this, I did it **my way.**_ ”

His piercing baritone voice filled the air with such liquid gold that it had the children frozen in amazement, never had they heard Launchpad sing so this was something entirely new. He continued on, moving around the stage:

“ _Regrets, I’ve had a few; But then again, too few to mention._ ”

“ _I did what I had to do, and saw it through… without exemption._ ”

“ _I planned each charted course; Each careful step along the byway..._ ”

“ _And more, much more than this, I did it **my way.**_ ”

His powerful, booming voice resonated with everyone, especially the kids, in such a way one could be brought to tears. His smooth tones and the emotion his puts in makes the show all the better. The band ramped up and Launchpad jumped off stage and walked around the tables:

“ _Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew, when I bit off more than I could chew! _”__

____

____

“ _But through it all, when there was doubt, I ate it up and spit it out! _”__

____

____

“ _I faced it all and I stood tall!; And did it **my way!** _”__

____

____

Tears. Tears running down people’s faces and most of all the boys and Webby’s faces. So much power and pain mixed into each and every lyric had them stunned beyond belief:

“ _I’ve loved, I’ve laughed and cried._ ”

“ _I've had my fill; My share of losing._ ”

“ _And now, as tears subside, I find it all so amusing._ ”

“ _To think I did all that; And may I say- not in a shy way._ ”

“ _‘Oh no, oh no not me, I did it **my way.** ’ _“

It was then that Launchpad went wide-eyed for a moment as he met the eyes of the kids, full of tears and wide beaks. Those few seconds felt like they lasted hours, but he had a song to finish so he shook his head briefly before going back in, as he did hopping back on stage:

“ _For what is a man, what has he **got**? If not himself, then he has **naught!**_ ”

“ _To say the things he **truly feels** ; And not the words of one who **kneels!**_ ”

“ _The record shows, I took the **blows!**_ ”

“ _And did it **my way!**_ ”

As he boomed, holding that last note, the entire club erupted into cheers, howls, and applause as he began winding down, tears staining many faces. As the band began to wind down Launchpad waved to everyone and bowed multiple times, and took a quick glance at the kids before heading off towards the back.

Dewey’s phone rang, he picked up, “Hello?”

 _“Come to my dressing room… **now.** ”_ Was all the duck said before hanging up. There was a sense of dread in the air as the children wiped away their tears as they snuck their way towards the back.

It didn't take long for them to come across a dressing room labelled _L. McQuack_ and entered. It was a simple room with pastel greys painting the walls, a makeup station, and a medium-sized black leather couch. On the wall opposite the door was Launchpad: arms crossed, stern, and tapping his foot, “Sit.” they listened.

None of them had the courage to look Launchpad in the eyes as he closed the door and paced back and forth, not saying a word. The air was so tense you could cut it with a knife, and after a while Launchpad spoke:

“Out of all the ridiculous, the dangerous, the reckless… this is _by far_ the _**stupidest**_ thing you kids could’ve done!” All four flinched because they’ve never heard Launchpad so upset before.

“You realize that we're not at Funso’s Fun Zone, right? This place isn't made for kids! How did you even get here anyway?”

All four were silent for a bit before Webby spoke, “We… plugged the address into Louie's phone and followed it all the way here. We snuck in through the service door and vents.”

“How did you get the address?”

“I took a business card out of your suit pocket,” Louie admitted.

Launchpad was in complete shock, “Guys… that was really dumb.”

“We know.”

Launchpad sighed as he pulled up his makeup chair and spun it around, back facing the kids, before swinging his legs around. The large duck ran his hand through his hair, having it flop in a mess in his face, “This club isn't in the nicest spots, did you all walk here?” They nodded, “Well that was stupid. Walking around here at night is dangerous for a guy like me, not to mention four children! There are some real Weirdos out there and they wouldn't hesitate to grab you guys off the streets, you can't just go walking around places like this… you could get hurt. Trust me, I grew up in St. Canard so _I know_ what danger looks like.”

Once he finished his speech he got up and hugged all the kids, who returned it with gusto, “And am I to assume correctly that no one knows you're here?” They shook their heads, “Well… I just finished up my shift,” he said looking at the clock reading 10, “so I get you guys home.”

As he packed up his stuff he guided the kids out and piled them into the limo before driving off.

_____

From the shadows from the alley across stood a large duck as he watched Launchpad talk to the kids as he got them into the limo he was driving, “There you are… Been looking all over for you,” the duck said, pulling his beak into a malicious smile as he watched the limo drive off. 

“I wonder… where are you going?”

_____

To say the others were upset would be an understatement.

They were livid.

Donald, Scrooge, and Beakley ranted a raved about the dangers they could’ve been in and how reckless sneaking out was. The kids were grounded until the trip, which they were relieved about that they weren't stopped from going.

Scrooge let out one last huff before turning to the large duck, “Where did ye find them?”

“They… tracked me down to the club I worked at. They wanted to see what I did.”

“And this club,” Scrooge said critically, eyeballing Launchpad’s ruffled hair, messy bowtie, and slightly unbuttoned shirt, “It wasn't anything the kids shouldn't have seen, was it?”

“No, sir, I work at a Jazz club as a waiter. Nothing obscene happenin’ there, though it is in a not so nice part of town so I freaked out when I saw them.” The kids wondered why Launchpad had just lied about what he did at The Singing Bird, but they didn't say anything. They didn't want Launchpad upset at them again.

Mrs. Beakley guided the kids upstairs as Launchpad gave his farewells before heading home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know why I haven't been doing this from the beginning- I do it for my other story- but what did you guys think?
> 
> The kids snuck out, Launchpad is a card dealer as well as a singer at this other job, and however showed up to Duckburg has been looking for him- and he saw the kids!
> 
> If you have comments or questions I would love to hear what you guys have to say, it always has me freaking out when I see a new comment! And, for now, I'll see you guys later (Probably soon with how things are going so far- brain's still working in my favour, huzzah!)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say a few quick words before the chapter starts: Thank you. I know I've said it so many times already, but I do mean it: Thank you.
> 
> What started off as a quick project to get an idea out of my head completely blew up in my face, in the best way possible! We're sitting on over 30 comments, over 50 kudos, and almost _1,000_ hits- as of this chapter- which is completely _baffling!_
> 
> Again, thank you all so much and I do hope those of you- new and returning- will continue to follow this story 'til the end!
> 
> You catch any mistakes, tell me and I'll fix them right up!

_Cold._

_Cold and Dark._

_Floating, Launchpad was floating._

_The duck took the time to look around and saw… nothing. Nothing but darkness and the void._

He tried speaking, but nothing came out when he tried.

_And he didn't like that._

_Launchpad continued to try and try to yell and shout but to no avail. He shouted and shouted some more but nothing happened._

_Until echoing laughter filled the emptiness._

_**“Poor little thing… Are you scared?”** The voice was smooth, calming, and pleasing._

_Not to Launchpad… Launchpad was **petrified!**_

_He tried to move, he tried to run, but every attempt was stopped by raising walls and restricting chains._

_The chains bound around his arms, legs, and neck as they brought him closer and closer to the voice._

_**“You should’ve learned by now… I ALWAYS get what I want!”** _

_As the chains coiled tighter around him, binding his arms behind him, he felt tearing claws grace his arms, back, and face- having the large duck whimper and tear up and the unwanted touch._

_The clawed appendages reached down and grabbed the hem of his shirt and started lifting it up…_

_“No…” The chains **seared** into his feathers and skin from the spoken rejection he managed, and as the metal binds burned into him the voice spoke once again._

_**“No? I don't think you understand… there is no choice here. You are MINE and NOTHING will change that… so shut your bill or I’ll put it to good use,”** spat the entity as its clawed grips reached down… and pushed past the waistband of Launchpad’s pants…_

_____

“ _ **NOOO!!!**_ ”

Launchpad’s blood-curdling scream echo throughout the entire hangar as his breathing was ragged and his body was drenched in sweat. His wide eyes darted around the partial darkness, looking for any threats.

He found nothing.

Launchpad almost collapsed with relief. The duck turned his head to read the time on his phone: 5:47.

The duck sighed, “Well… I’m not falling back asleep after that. Let's put this time to good use,” he grumbled out as he forced his way out of his hammock and peeled off his sweaty pyjamas.

After changing he headed down to his stress room and worked out until he could barely keep his arms up. He managed to tear a rip in his punching bag- he was hitting so hard- that he had to stop and sew it shut before the sand poured out.

Two fights. Two fights not even a few days apart. Launchpad didn't like that.

What he also didn't like how natural it felt to fight, it pleased and disgusted him at the same time.

He also didn't like that for the past couple of days he’s been grabbing his sets of knuckles and storing them in his pockets, he didn't like it but what happened to Donald… he wasn't taking any risks.

After a good workout, and hearing his alarm sound, he stopped so he could go off and take a shower and get dressed before driving over to McDuck Manor.

Two days away he would be in the Captain's seat of _The Sunchaser_ and they would be flying off to the lost Tomb of Kar-lek. He was excited that he got to, officially, join the family in their adventure and he was excited to see what the tomb had in store for them.

As he pulled up to the Manor as waited outside, checking the time: 7:58.

“Tch, I’m late… damn,” he shoved his phone away in irritation as he calmed himself and threw on a smile, just as the triplets burst out the house.

“Hey Launchpad!” “Mornin’ LP!” “How’s it going?”

“Heh, Hey boys! Good morning to all of you as well, and I’m doing just fine thank you for asking Dewey.”

As Huey, Dewey, and Louie shuffled into the limo, Launchpad saw as Scrooge stepped out, “I was a little late showing up today boss, sorry about that.”

Scrooge was confused, “Late? What are ye talkin’ about lad?”

“I usually get here at 7:55 and wait for you and the boys to get ready to leave, I showed up a minutes after than I liked. Sorry.”

Scrooge was utterly baffled by this: someone employed by him was apologizing for not showing up early, that had the older duck chuckling, “Lad, never in my _entire life_ has someone apologized for arriving _late_ to being _early_ when all ask is for them to be _on time_ , understand me? If it’s routine for you that's fine, but I’m not upset.”

“You’re not?”

“No Launchpad, that just shows me how dedicated you are to this job. I’m glad aye hired you.”

“T-Thank Mr. McDuck! I’m glad you hired me too!”

“Right, and with that out of the way are you ready to go?”

His smile beamed, “Of course! Let's head off Mr. McDee!”

_____

It had been a few hours since Launchpad dropped off the boys and Scrooge and now he was doing some errands for Mrs. Beakley. She was making lasagna for dinner that night and needed a few things, which Launchpad offered to get with gusto. Food shopping was something he really enjoyed as, though he wouldn't admit it to others, he was a pretty good cook. He enjoyed cooking but didn't really have a suitable place to do it as he only had a few Hotplates and no stove.

He was always ecstatic when Mrs. Beakley let him help out with lunch or dinner, and it was really then that he got more experience in. She even gave him a few pointers, which were really helpful in the long run.

After exiting the store with what she needed he headed back to the limo, put the groceries in the trunk, and got into the driver’s seat. But he didn't start the car right away, instead he pulled out his phone and called someone.

The phone rang for a bit before the other side answered, _“Hello?”_ came the raspy voice he fell in love with.

“Hey Donny, how’s it going?”

_“I’m good, just been trying to fix up the houseboat since the boys almost burned it down a bit back. What about you?”_

“I’m doing great! Just got some shopping down for B and I was on my way back to the mansion, but there was something I wanted to ask you?”

_“Okay, what is it?”_

“I was thinking about taking you out tonight. Don't know exactly where we would go at the moment, but I’ll think of something. So whaddya say, sound good? It’s been a bit since we've gone out, so I thought it be a nice treat!”

_“Ummm… yeah, screw it, why not?”_

“Awesome! I’ll text you when I got thing’s planned out, okay?”

_“Alright, no problem."_

“Cool, I’ll see you tonight!” Launchpad punctuated as he hung up and started the car. Dropping the stuff off with Beakley, Launchpad headed around to see what he could do for Donald to make this night special for him and himself.

The large fowl spent the last few hours getting everything ready before he was called in to pick up the triplets from school and Scrooge from the company. He stays for a little bit before heading home to get ready and change for the date he had planned, _‘I hope Donny likes it…’_

_____

_I’ll come get you at 6; wear semi-formal clothes_

That's what the text Donald got from Launchpad said. That was 2 hours ago.

And Donald still couldn't figure out what to wear.

Everything from his closet was laid out on his bed and he was cursing under his breath the more he stared at the assortment of clothes. He grew increasingly more frustrated before finally exploding, “Damn it! Why is this so fucking hard?!” He vented before plopping against the bed with his clothes.

“Well, I don't know what you’re so angry about, but I would prefer if you didn't use that kind of language around my granddaughter,” Beakley’s voice frightened Donald causing him to quack in surprise as he fell off his bed.

“Beakley don't scare me like that! And Webby’s not even around!” He shouted, staring and the large duck standing in his doorway.

“I know I just thought I’d give a warning for the future. Now, what's got your feathers all ruffled?’

“I… I have a date and I don't know what to wear,” he’d thought it be easier just to tell Beakley exactly what was wrong instead of trying to hide it. She just didn't need to know who the date was with.

“I see, and what is the dress code?”

“Semi-formal, why?” She didn't answer him just pushed by as she began examining the clothes he had strewn about. After a few moments of consolation Beakley grabbed a few dress shirts and jackets and threw them at Donald, “Try these on they work well together with each other.”

Donald didn't give himself any room to argue with her as he began changing, thankful for her help.

After switching through the four shirts he was handed, a black, a grey, a white, and a navy blue one, he settled on the navy blue for obvious reasons. Once settling that he went through the jackets and picked one he thought would go well a hunter green. Once changed he went back and showed Beakley, “Well, how do I look?”

She stood there, hand on her chin, as she looked him over. Donald felt exposed, even though he was dressed, with Beakley examining hm like this- she probably found it amusing to see the smaller duck squirm a bit.

Not even a minute went by before she nodded, “I like it. The shirt compliments your feathers nicely and the mildly intense colour of the jacket seems somewhat dull coupled with the shirt, which works in your favour. I approve.”

“Thank you,” was all he said before feeling his phone buzz, “it’s them, I gotta go.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll just be here cleaning up your mess while you go out. No big deal.”

“Beakley-”

“ _I’m kidding_ , go have fun Donald. You deserve it,” the housekeeper said with a warm smile.

Donald gave a similar smile back as he heads out of his room and out to the front gate of the Manor. He was lucky enough that it was far enough from the mansion so no one could see them.

As Donald got closer he saw Launchpad dressed in a black jacket, dark grey shirt, and black jeans. His fiery hair was combed and nicely done with the absence of his signature hat, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You ready?”

“Of course.” 

“Then let's head off!” Launchpad cheered, holding open the passenger door for Donald.

As the couple drove through the city, the sun beginning to set, Donald watched as Duckburg began to fade behind them the longer they drove, “Where are we going?”

“Our dinner reservation isn't until 7:30, so i thought I’d show you one of my favourite spots to visit here until then.” 

The drive kept going until the limo began pulling up to the base of a cliff when Launchpad put the car in park. Donald followed his boyfriend as the trekked all the way to the top, only stopping just before the edge. The view from here was _beautiful!_ The cliff overlooked the ocean, waves crashing far beneath them, and had a perfect view of the sun setting. The quiet seclusion was pleasing to Donald.

“This is amazing! How did you find this place?” The duck asked, sitting next to his boyfriend watching the sunset.

“Found it while going around Duckburg and getting used to my new surroundings when I first moved here. This has always been a good thinking spot for me and it's nice to have the quiet once in a while. My home can be a little… suffocating all by myself while out here… it's peaceful.”

“It's beautiful.”

Launchpad kept his eyes on the setting sun, “So are you.”

Donald craned his neck to look at Launchpad: glowing round orbs staring right back with such appreciation and love in them.

Nothing was in the way as Launchpad lowered his head and met Donald’s lips with ease, pulling him up onto his lap in order to dive in deeper. Donald melted with little resistance as he enjoyed the feeling of Launchpad caressing his back.

They broke the kiss after a little while, not wanting to do anything hasty, so they just sat on the cliff and overlooking the ocean. A peaceful and serene image for the both of them.

_____

Launchpad had pulled up to the restaurant when he parked the limo. He came around to open the door for Donald, who accepted the gentlemanly gesture. Launchpad held out his arm, which Donald looped around, as they enter- the smaller duck catching the name. _The Singing Towers._

Through the door they found themselves in a small hall as the walls were lined with shiny, dark bronze curtains that led all around the ground restaurant floor, and as they went further in they came up a host stand where a beautiful stork with pitch black feathers and long, flowing hair greeted them, “Welcome, how may I help you?”

“I have a reservation, under ‘McQuack’.”

The host lady scanned her books before smiling, “Ah, McQuack, here you are! Right this way,” The stork said, guiding the two ducks. As night came to a head Donald noticed the string of lights that were scattered about, giving the place a nice soft glow.

He also noticed they passed by many tables and even went up a few floors until they ended up on the roof patio. A beautiful arbour of foliage and lights that led all the way to a single table next to the balcony. Donald couldn't believe his eyes.

As the hostess led them to their table and sat them, down she left them with menus, telling them a server would be with them shortly before leaving.

Donald finally found his voice after noticing the restaurant was pretty tall and almost overlooked the skyline, “Launchpad you did all this… for me?”

“Uh huh, you’re special to me Donny… I would do anything for you.”

“But this… this is too much! Just look at the prices,” the duck flapped about while holding the menu, “I can't afford this!”

“You don't have to since I’m paying for it all.”

“Launchpad-”

“I had to pull some money out from my savings for a bed, but it was worth it.”

“Launchpad-”

“Now stop it and enjoy Donald. You deserve it.” The duck reluctantly nodded and went through the menu, figuring out what to eat.

Once the waiter came by and took their order it left them with some time to talk, “How did you get a reservation here? It couldn't have been easy.”

“Oh it wasn't, but I have some… favours that people owed me, so that was able to get us on the short list. I somehow convinced you uncle to give a little more of a nudge so we could have this. When I told him what I was doing he said he’d help because ‘a lass always deserves to be treated like she’s the stars themselves!’, his words but I liked them. And,” Launchpad got a little more fidgety, “that's also something I wanted to talk about: telling your family.”

“To be honest I've been thinking about it too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and I think… we should. Scrooge and Huey, at dinner on Thursday, showed that they supported it so at least that's two down. Webby and the boys, as you said, probably won't care and will be plenty happy for us, and Beakley… well, I can't read her but she probably won't care. You were right, we don't need to hide.”

“That's… That's great!” Launchpad cheered as he held Donald’s hand, “I was worried that you’d be against the idea, but I’m relieved that we're on the same page. When do you want to tell them?”

“I dunno, maybe after our trip to the tomb that why if we’ve judged any of them wrong then they’ll have to calm down from their happiness before anything drastic happens.”

“I’m a little peeved by your sad view of this, but it does make the most sense,” Launchpad nodded in agreement, “Okay! After our trip Friday we’ll tell them!”

The couple smiled at one another as their food came and they dug in. The food was _exquisite_ and the most wonderful thing Donald had _ever tasted!_ He looked across and saw Launchpad enjoying his food with just as much gusto, causing the duck to snicker.

Throughout the night they shared food, swapped stories, and drank champagne. Donald felt himself, later on, get a little tipsy so he slowed down and did his best to keep Launchpad from drinking too much as well.

As the night wound down Launchpad paid for the dinner and took Donald as they headed to the limo, “Are you sure you’re okay to drive? You had a bit much to drink?”

“I…” launchpad’s face went blank as he thought about it, “I… I’m not sure, that's probably saying plenty,” he said, defeated, as he tossed the keys to Donald, “you stopped drinking two hours ago so you should be fine, just don't drive too fast.”

“I won't.”

_____

10 o’clock, it was quiet.

As Donald pulled in to the hangar that was Launchpad’s house he closed the hangar door, parked the car, and got out- LP doing the same. As the big duck came around the hood he stood in front of Donald, locking eyes with him… then he smiled.

One Beat…

And they were off!

Launchpad had pushed Donald against the limo, pulling him into a passionate kiss. The smaller duck did little to fight as he deepened the kiss, resting one hand against LP’s chest while the other wrapped around his head.

Their soft moans filled their ears and once they finally broke their kiss, panting ever so gently, they both grinned.

Launchpad threw his arms around Donald and picked him up, much to the glee of the smaller duck, and tossed he and himself into the couch where they continued their escapade- resting Donald on his lap. Bills locked and hands roaming, in the tussle both ducks managed to removed their jackets and while Donald also managed to get off his shirt, revealing his entire form to Launchpad, “W-Wow, you look good D.”

“You’re not too bad yourself LP, and don’t act so surprised… you’ve seen this all before,” Donald managed a sultry tone even with his voice. 

It was doing all the right things to Launchpad, “I… w-well yeah b-but… it’s different this time,” the larger duck got out, his face fully turning red at this point as he squirmed because of his straining jeans.

“Good different or bad different?”

He replied by stripping off his shirt, “Good different,” before he pulled Donald back into another strong and passion filled kiss.

Their moans grew louder the longer their hands explored one another- Launchpad caressing the curves and points of Donald’s back while Donald outlined the shape of LP’s pecs and abs.

 _‘I’m so lucky,’_ Both ducks thought as the air between them began to heat up more and more.

Everything was perfect: the sunset, the dinner, hell, even the drive home…

The fact that Donald’s hands had minds of their own would really backfire in everyone’s face.

Said hands caressed Launchpad’s hips and graced the edge of his jeans, and wanting more they glided over his belt buckle and began working on it.

Launchpad’s body tensed in cold fear as he pushed Donald back a bit to grab ahold of his arms and preventing them from doing anything else, “No.. S-Stop…”

Donald looked perturbed, “Launchpad, are you Okay?”

He had only one answer, “N-No,” practically shoving his boyfriend off and running towards the bathroom.

He slammed the door shut, locking it, as he rested his back against it and sliding to the ground in anguish, “God… What am I doing?” Bringing his knees closer to his face and covering his face with his hands, “He’s not… He wouldn’t… We both wanted it, so why… Ugh! What’s wrong with me?!” Launchpad shouted into the air full well knowing that Donald would hear.

Slamming his fists into the floor while banging his head, Launchpad’s forced shut as tears threaten to run, “Why can’t I get this right?!” He voiced in a whispered shout, “it's Donald… it’s just Donald… I just want to forget,” there was no stopping the tears at this point. He stared up at the ceiling as his vision blurred, “I love him, that’s what matters here, so why am I so afraid?”

_**“...You are MINE and NOTHING will change that…”** _

“Why? You’re not h-here… Why are y-you still **fucking** with m-my life?!” Launchpad was gripping his hair tight, threatening to rip it out, as he shuttered out a breath.

He spent the next 10 minutes calming himself down and composing himself, and after he washed his face he left the bathroom and rejoined Donald.

Said duck had his jacket wrapped around him, brows knitted in frustration.

“Hey.” 

Launchpad’s sudden voice startled the small duck, “Launchpad! What happened? I thought… I thought we were having a good time.”

“We were!” He exclaimed, sitting down next to his boyfriend.

“Then… was it something _I_ did? I… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed-“

“No, no, Hey, it’s fine,” Launchpad cupped Donald’s hands with his own as he got the duck to look at him, “I _really wanted_ to, believe me, I did, but…” LP trailed off, figuring out what to say, “it doesn’t come as easy to me.”

“What doesn’t?”

“This- touching and kissing and admiring one’s body… that’s not easy for me. It… freaks me out. Especially what we have now, I’ve never had this so don’t know what to do. You love me for me and I can’t fathom how you do that! I’m just… _broken_ , why would anyone like _me_?” For the second time, today tears threaten his eyes…

But luckily he had someone at his side this time.

“Hey, Launchpad, don’t say that! You’re wonderful! You’re smart, funny, got a-rockin' bod, always know how to cheer others up, and other things I can’t voice all at once. Point is _you_ , Launchpad McQuack, are an amazing duck and nobody can change that. I get that this is hard for you, that’s fine, we don’t have to do anything right now. I can tell you’re hurting… and someone hurt you, am I right?”

From what Donald understood and pieced together there wasn’t much to add other than a confirming nod, which he got, “Then it's okay. As long as you’re happy then I’m happy, I can wait. You’re _my_ priority and until you feel safe then I can wait a little longer.”

“Really?” Launchpad asked not really believing what he was hearing.

“Really,” Donald pecked the cheek of LP as he removed the coat and rested his back on the larger duck’s chest, “Cuddling naked is still good too.”

This got a snort out of Launchpad as he wrapped his arms around, “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” Was all Donald had to say as the two of them slowly drifted into slumber. One void of nightmares and filled with beautiful dreams.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To let you all know, I'm not _technically_ done with chapter 14 but I've had a lot going on- with packing for college an' all- so I wanted to give this chapter as a little gift because things might slow down soon _(I know I don't have a posting schedule, but I just wanted to let you all know!)_
> 
> If you see any mistakes tell me and I'll get them fixed right up! Now on with the chapter!

This was it, this was the day. They day Scrooge and the family journeyed to the Tomb of Kar-lek, and Launchpad got to accompany them.

To say he was excited was an understatement. He was practically vibrating when he woke up, so to burn off the extra energy he went to workout which did wonders for him.

After finishing a set of sit-ups he left the equipments room and went to take a shower… only for his left shoulder blade to tighten after a few feet of walking.

He fell to one knee as the muscles tightened in his shoulder, essentially locking it in place. Launchpad kneaded his knuckles into the tight muscles, that he’s done many times before until he felt the slack of his shoulder and breathing a sigh of relief, “It’s been a while since that happened, hm, wonder what's up…” He shook the thought out as he had to get ready for the day and get to McDuck Manor.

Once he arrived, at 7:55 much to his pleasure, he did as he always did and waited for the boys and Scrooge to leave the house after breakfast.

Routine, Launchpad liked routine. Routine gave him something to do. Working for Scrooge McDuck gave him plenty of routine, but it was never the same. Never boring.

He would always drop him off for his morning meeting, but sometimes Scrooge didn't want to go. Sometimes he would have Launchpad just drive around for an hour or two before heading to McDuck Enterprises. “Traffic” is what he would tell the vultures working for him.

Other days, especially with the triplets living with him now, he would have Launchpad stop at a coffee shop so he could get a pick me up, and occasionally he would get Launchpad something for being a great employee.

And even on the rare occasion he would ask Launchpad to come up with him, so if the meeting is tedious he could fake a heart attack have LP “rush him to the hospital” as he drives him back home. He’ll explain later that it was a false alarm, but the vultures are never happy with him anyway.

And the other favourite part of Launchpad’s day is picking up the boys from school. It was a nice change of pace and once it too became routine Launchpad always found it interesting what Huey, Dewey, and Louie did that day.

Sometimes it seemed like they had one mind, finishing each other's sentences and explain what they had done together that day since they never left each other’s side. Other times Dewey’s yelling at Louie for some sort of prank he pulled while Huey just wants to read a book.

Then there are the times… the times where they all look so sad and didn't want to say anything until they got home. Those were the times where Launchpad would forgo being on time so he could get the kids to open up. It was always slightly different but virtually the same: people either didn't like them because of their Uncle Scrooge, for whatever reason, or they’re teased for being “attached at the hip”. That's why they would stay quiet because they would try that day to do whatever they want on their own… it just never feels the same.

He’s heard them talk about their _Only Child Day_ that they came up with, but from what he figured even though they would take this 24 hour to do things on their own they always came back together in the end. That's what siblings do, but when they force themselves to separate… it drives a wedge between them.

When this happens Launchpad always tells them the same thing: What people say doesn't matter. All that matters is that they're together and the ones picking on them were jealous.

The boys always appreciated when Launchpad would talk to them, it never failed to make them feel better.

And Launchpad like talking to the boys, they never failed to make him smile.

_____

Hours later Launchpad sat in the limo outside the middle school the triplets attended, tapping his digits against the steering wheel. He already picked up Scrooge earlier and dropped him off at home, so he just had to get the kids then they’ll be off.

Though he was looking forward the sound of the back door opening alerted him to the incoming passengers, “Hey boys! How was school?”

“Good.” “Fine.” “Louie got sent to the principal's office.”

“Dude!”

“What happened?” Launchpad asked as he started up the car.

“He got into a fight with a seventh grader, right Louie?” Huey pointed out, his brother silent and so not denying it.

“Lou, what’s up? Picking fights isn't a smart thing to do, what happened?”

“It wasn't my fault, honest! The kid was just bothering me and my brothers at lunch. He wouldn't leave us alone so I told him to leave, and…” Louie grew increasingly silent as he trailed off.

Launchpad looked into the rearview mirror to see the youngest triplet wear the most pained look he had ever seen the kid wear, it didn't sit well with him, “Louie? You alright?”

“...He kept badgering me about my crush and told me that nobody would ever like me until I ‘got rid of the dead weight I had’... I snapped.” The car fell silent as Launchpad drove, and when they got to the Manor Launchpad locked the doors.

The boys were confused as to why LP wasn't letting them leave until he turned around and to see such a stern look on his face. The same face he wore when they went to the club, “Did you swing first?”

“What?”

“ _Did you swing first?_ ”

“I… I tackled him to the ground. I didn't _technically_ punch him until he shoved me.”

“Doesn't matter: You started the fight you’re at fault.”

“But-”

“I didn't say he was right, I’m just saying that you went about it the wrong way. You get punished?”

“ _Yeah_ , got detention until Wednesday since Huey and Dewey stopped it from going much further.”

“Does Donald know?”

“Probably? I don't know. They said they might have called our guardians but I don't know that they did or not.”

“If they did Donald will talk to you about it, if not then you’ll tell him after our adventure- I don't want you to miss out on this because of something another kid said,” Louie smiled at that as he nodded.

“Good, now to the other issue: You have a crush?”

“Y-Yeah…”

“Did he say anything about them? Their name? Species?”

“The louder he got the more he inferred, but… I don't think he said anything specifically.”

“Great, I know how it feels to be outed in front of your crush and it doesn't feel good. Whatever he said was probably dumb and easily forgotten. Now… he called your brothers dead weight?”

This is where Louie got _really heated,_ “It was so stupid! Everyone knows we're triplets, so why do we get _so much shit_ over it?!”

“Hey! I know you’re upset, but I’m not gonna be hearing that kind of language coming out of your mouth,” Launchpad wasn't giving any room on this and even though he knew he really didn't have any authority over him _quite yet_ he knew that Louie would listen to him.

“Sorry I just… I’m irritated, okay?”

“I know, but that's still no excuse.”

“I know… he just went on about how we're pretty much clones of one another- which we're _not_ since Huey’s a nerd, Dewey’s reckless at times, and I’m lazy! He kept telling us, me specifically, that we weren't gonna get anywhere until we ‘cut the umbilical cord’, which didn't make any sense since we're ducks! We were hatched! I was just… a sucky afternoon.”

“And i get that, but you need to remember- all of you- that what you have is special and should never take it for granted. Being triplets is a rare thing and anyone who says it’s weird or that ‘if one of you disappeared it wouldn't change anything’ then they’re wrong. You were born with two best friends, people are gonna be jealous of that… don't let others get in the way of you guys enjoying yourselves. Family is stronger together, alright?”

The boys seemed to soak in the words Launchpad said and during that time Louie managed to calm down. They all looked at one another and pulled each other into one big hug, it warmed Launchpad’s heart, “Better?”

They nodded, “Guys,” Louie started, “I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about it a different way, it was stupid of me to try to pick a fight.”

“It's alright Louie, we understand why you did… Now about this crush of yours,” Dewey mentioned with a smug look on his face.

“Oh… Oh no, no, no we are NOT…” The rest of the bickering delved into teasing Louie as Launchpad unlocked the limo and the brothers two chased Louie around before heading inside. Launchpad himself snickered at the sight as he too exited the car and went around back, after all, he had a Sunchaser to get prepped.

_____

Scrooge fixed up his leather spats as he adjusted the windbreaker he wore when they climbed Mt. Neverrest. The kids were doing the same but instead messed with the jackets they wore when they followed Launchpad- Dewey and Webby, also, playing with their blue and pink beanies. Donald wore, over his sailor suit, his black zip-up and spats similar to Scrooge’s. Launchpad had worn jeans, to keep his legs warm, while he just had on a T-shirt and his flight jacket- the anti-curse amulet around his next like everyone else.

Scrooge handed out packs and such that contained first aid kits, rope, hooks, and anything else they might need on their trip. You could never be too careful, “Alright, is everyone ready?” Everyone cheered, “Perfect, Launchpad is the plane ready?”

“Yep! The Sunchaser’s prepped and ready to go!”

“Okay then, then let's head off. Beakley, we’ll be back by the end of the day.”

“Don't do anything stupid.”

“When have aye ever done anything stupid?”

“You-”

“Don't answer that.”

_____

The sky was clear as Launchpad flew _The Sunchaser_ to their destination, following the map Scrooge drew up for him. The worst thing, in his opinion, in keeping secrets is that Scrooge went through the route with him at least four times before he was satisfied he knew it.

Launchpad only had to go over it once to remember where to go.

He doesn't blame Scrooge though, he knows how he shows himself to others and his obliviousness can be mistaken for stupidity in some cases. Not that he thinks Scrooge believes he's stupid or anything.

He loved watching his parents fly and on occasion, his father, Ripcord, would go over the route he and his mother were taking so he could follow along from the ground. It was then that Launchpad realized that he had the uncanny skill of memorizing things. He didn't have an eidetic memory, per se, but he could memorize maps, songs, and a few tidbits of information that would stick with him from time to time.

It was the only reason why the plane would always be in such pristine condition, ready for the next adventure even though they practically demolished it the last time. When he had first flown the plane he didn't know a thing about it, but that first time he took the time to go over the entire thing: every bolt, rivet, panel, and wiring that he could.

Plane stuff was easy; That's what he worked with most of his childhood.

They had been adventuring for a little less than two months, which gave LP plenty of time to get accustomed with the plane’s inner workings- even make small upgrades where he could without being noticed. One of those upgrades was a green button that sat on the dash, he was particularly fond of that one because it took two weeks of rewiring and integration before he got it to function.

They wouldn't have to worry about not having another set of hands if they were attacked again like with Don Karnage with this little baby. He-

“Launchpad?” The large fowl snapped out of his daydreaming by the sound of Webby, “You zoned out there for a moment.”

“Y-Yeah, I’m good. Just thinkin’ about the plane is all!”

The girl seemed to catch what Launchpad was staring at, “What’s it do?”

“That… is a secret for everyone to find out later, so don't push it.”

“Oh! Okay then, I’ll leave you to flying I’m gonna check up on Huey, Dewey, and Louie.”

“You do that,” he said as the young duck walked off, being replaced by Donald as she passed by.

“Webby’s full of energy as usual,” Donald voiced, placing a hand on Launchpad's shoulder, “How far are we from the tomb?”

“Well…” LP trailed off as he looked over the map, “We shouldn’t be more than 20-30 minutes out. Landing on a mountain's gonna be a little difficult, since I’ve never done it, but I think I got it handled!”

“I hope you do, there's precious cargo on this plane I would very much like to not be stranded in the middle of nowhere,” Donald’s tone was a bit snarky, but that didn't mean he still didn't worry. He trusted Launchpad would get them to where they needed without much incident, but flying always made him a little nervous. He much preferred the sea because at least there he felt he had some semblance of control.

“Don't worry Donny, I got this in the bag!” Launchpad threw up his signature smile trying his best to cheer Donald up.

Luckily it worked, “Okay, I trust you Launchpad,” was all he said before heading back to meet up with everyone else, leaving the pilot alone.

Though he knew that he wasn't completely alone it was good enough that everyone tended to avoid him while piloting so he could concentrate, “…People trust you when you smile, a smile makes others happy,” he uttered a chunk of his mantra to himself, so he remembers why he does what he does.

“They make you feel safe...” and sometimes the lies you tell yourself are the easiest to believe.

“...And they keep others safe from the Fire…” and sometimes the truth is hard to hear, but one should never forget why that is.

_____

The skies were partially clear as the rough, completely uneven, landscape formed around them. Green was scattered all about the steep landscape showing little snow on the grey stone of the valley they travelled through.

Up ahead was the peak Launchpad needed to head to: soaring higher into the clouds than any other peak, completely void of any vegetation, and almost a complete ring of flat stone higher up on the slope. Guiding the Sunchaser in, with a bit of turbulence, the pilot managed to touch the plane down without crashing it this time- one of few victories for the duck.

As the propellers of the engines slowed and it was safe to move around Louie came up to meet Launchpad, “Even the plane’s intact this time, guess your getting better Launchpad,” he said with a wink.

“Guess I am,” he returned the wink.

Launchpad followed Louie down to meet up with Scrooge and the other right when they walked outside. It was low enough into the atmosphere that they didn't need oxygen- which was good.

As the seven of them stood against the stone platform Huey went into overdrive, “Uncle Scrooge how is this even possible? This stone must've been from the original mountain, but it's been chiseled away to form a walking ground! We're too high up for others to bring tools with them and even then the time it would take to create something like this is-”

“Lad!”

Huey halted his rambling, “Yes Uncle Scrooge?”

“Try not to think about it too hard, it’ll drive ye mad,” he told the boy before approaching the enormous, intriguingly detailed stone door, “Now, we're here… But how do we get in?”

“You don't know that?!” Donald shouted, “Then why did we come all the way out here?!”

“Settle down Donald I’m sure we’ll figure it out in no time!”

As Donald and Scrooge worked on the door, Webby and Dewey examined the ever reaching stone walls, “What's up with these? The ring goes all the way around so why have these walls?” Dewey sounded perplexed as he kicked dirt at the stone barrier.

“I was doing research with Scrooge before we got here and it said that you could travel all the way around to the exit using the walkway, but you could ever only get the treasure that lay inside and open the exit by going through. It said once someone made it though to open the other side then these walls would just… crumble, telling anyone around that the tomb was opened and completed.”

“Wow that's… how does that work?”

“Magic!” Webby answered with a sparkle to her eyes, Dewey, however, was not pleased with that so he began walking away when Webby realized her mistake, “Wait no, Dewey, come back- I really did mean magic- Dewey!”

While Webby chased her friend, Launchpad and Louie was on the opposite end with LP admiring the view, “It’s amazing, isn't it?”

“If you like the fact we're thousands of feet in the air and the smallest break in the stone could lead to our deaths, then yes it is amazing,” Louie’s hand were clammy as he tried drying them off and playing with his feathers.

Launchpad the nervousness Louie displayed and when it seems that he wanted to look up at Launchpad he quickly panned away, “Louie what’s up? You were fine on the plane not even five minutes ago.”

Louie glanced at LP defeatedly sighing, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not really scared of being high up- well, maybe a little but that's beside the point- I’m just… nervous.”

“Nervous?”

“I… Can I tell you something?” The young duck asked leaning up against the mountainside.

“Of course! You can tell me anything,” Launchpad said while leaning up next to the young duck.

“And will you promise not to tell anyone?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” assured the large duck, much to the relief of Louie.

“Okay… So you know how I said that the moron at school mentioned my crush?” Launchpad nodded, “Well, what you say if I told you… I have more than one?”

Launchpad’s heart _soared_ because of this, “Really? That's awesome! Way to go champ!” He cheered, slapping Louie on the arm.

Louie, however, was now even more nervous than before, “Well yeah, but… it doesn't make sense to me.”

Launchpad cocked his head at the statement, “Huh? What doesn't make sense?”

“It doesn't make sense that they’re both-” Louie didn't finish his thought as part of the mountain he was leaning on sunk in, which triggered the huge stone gates in front of Scrooge and Donald to slowly push open.

The entire group stood shocked as they all gathered, checking to see if their amulets were on. Launchpad wanted Louie to finish what he was going to say, but now that the tomb was open he pushed the thought aside as he came up the rear of everyone…

...If only if they waited a little bit longer then they would’ve heard the sounds of approaching planes…

_____

As the stone doors shut behind them Scrooge, along with everyone else, lit the torches Donald had bought. The cave they found themselves in had a clean, flat ground while the walls seemed almost… natural- rough, ridged, and eroded.

Scrooge rifled through his pack, pulling out what looked like a scroll, “Okay, the scripture says _‘Those who enter the Tomb of Kar-lek mustn’t let avarice blind them, those who do will lose themselves to The Fire. A single Leap of Faith will bathe those worthy in the Light of Darkness and bring them to what is sought after’_.”

“Well, what does that all mean?” Donald asked while messing with the straps of his pack.

“No clue, been trying to decipher it for weeks,” Scrooge admitted putting away the scroll, “ _but_ if have any chance of understanding what it's talking about then I say we head in further and see what this tomb’s got in store for us. Who’s with me?”

“I'm in!” “Sounds cool!” “I wonder what traps we’ll find...:” “We're behind you Uncle Scrooge!”

“You already know my answer boss,” Launchpad added before turning to the ex-sailor, “Donald?”

The duck didn't say much, but when he noticed everyone staring at him he froze for a moment before sighing, “The door’s shut, so there not much to do then head in.”

“Alright then, onwards!” And they were off!

They began walking through the massive tunnel system, wandering through corridors, descending stairs, and climbing ladders to see where it would lead them. On occasion, the place would rumble and shake for a moment before settling, unknown to the group what was causing it. Eventually, they managed to transition into another part of the tomb as the ground changed from loose dirt to stone tiles.

During this time they had run into plenty of traps, most of them activated by the tiles themselves, as they dodged poison darts, swinging bladed pendulums, and jumped over floor spikes. There were times where they found themselves trapped in a room with the walls closing in, Launchpad- by God's good grace- figured out what to do. While everyone else tried to find things to jam the walls still, with little success, Launchpad noticed there was space above them and figured that's where they needed to go.

As the walls pushed in they crumbled in a few places that allowed him to climb, so he took his shot. Throwing his bag up he trailed it by grabbing the makeshift holds, pulling himself up. Scrooge watched him with amazement as someone as big as Launchpad could scale the walls with little effort. He didn't have much time to gawk as said duck lowered a rope and Scrooge ushered everyone to climb.

Launchpad’s arms strained trying to pull up everyone's combined weights, but he managed to get everyone up just as the walls shut it and clamped around a few of Donald's tail feathers causing the duck to quack in distress.

Once everyone recovered they continued their trek, ending up next to a ravine that their path soared over, “Everyone watch your step, we don’ know how stable that walkway is,” Scrooge warned as he led the march.

Webby and the brothers were starting to get visibly tired as they had been constantly on the move for almost two hours, so they began leaning on each other as they walked. Launchpad noticed how tense Donald was so he kept him close with him at the rear, the smaller duck thankful for his boyfriend’s presence.

As they came around the crest of the path Dewey had stopped for a moment to get a drink of water from his canteen… only for him to sidestep and the ground below him to disintegrate.

It was the second time he found himself falling in the last week and it was annoying him, but that annoyance quickly faded as the fear set in.

Most froze in this fatal moment, legs locked in place, as they watched the young duck fall… only for a blur of brown and white to rush past and snapped Dewey up by the shirt collar and tossed him- wrapping him up in his arms. Once everyone snapped out their haze they rushed over to the two ducks on the ground, “Dewey! Are you okay?!”

Launchpad unrolled himself, still holding tight to Dewey, “Y-Yeah I’m fine. Launchpad was-”

“Fast, faster than I’ve ever seen him,” added Scrooge as he helped them both up, the kids and Donald pulling Dewey into a hug, “How did you do that lad? Not that I’m not eternally grateful, I was just wonderin’”

‘Well,” Launchpad raked a hand through his hair slowed his breathing and beating heart, “Dewey was in trouble I wasn't going to stand by as he fell. I just… moved, dang, adrenaline really does a n-number to you,” the large fowl stuttered out as he steadied himself on his feet.

“Well, doesn't matter, I’m just glad me nephew is safe. Thank you.”

“Always Mr. McDee! It’s-” _‘My-’_ “-your family, I’ll always be here to help out.”

_____

The danger had seemed to settle down as the tunnels shrunk compared to the one they had been in previously, and at this point, Scrooge brought out some parchment so he could make a map of where they’ve been, but something was wrong.

The rumbling grew louder and louder as they continued to trek, and it was starting to worry Scrooge. The tunnels they travelled down always led to dead ends and even going back he seemed to be running into dead ends they really shouldn't have been there, so after the ninth time stopping Louie spoke up, Do you even know where you’re going Uncle Scrooge? We keep hitting dead ends and you don't seem any closer to the treasure.”

“But that's the problem lad,” Scrooge lowered his makeshift lap with his brows knitted, “we came from here not even 20 minutes ago… this wall shouldn't be here.” As if on cue the rumbling grew to the loudest that it's ever been and as the group looked back they could make out walls bursting from the ground or crumbling into nothing, “The path’s _changing!_ ”

They tried to outrun the changing landscape, but it was futile as the closed in and with how they had themselves a wall came down from the ceiling and landed between them- separating the kids and Scrooge from Launchpad and Donald.

_____

“No!” Shouted Donald as he tossed his torch and slammed his fists into the wall. He continued to yell and bang as Launchpad picked up the torch he tossed and went over to him just as Donald slid to the ground in despair.

“Come on Donny, we gotta keep going.”

“B-But the kids! They-”

“Will be _fine_ , they have your uncle with them so nothing's going to happen to them. Now let's go,” Launchpad handed back Donald’s torch, “Wherever this leads us we don't want to worry your family by taking too long.”

And onwards they marched. The further they moved in it seemed hat the ever-changing area was behind them, so all that was left was to navigate the tunnels they were seemingly trapped in. 

So they walked.

And walked.

And walked.

And they walked until the point where it was driving Donald insane by the face they didn't seem to be getting anywhere, “Ugh! This is _useless!!!_ We're not getting _**anywhere**_ and these tunnels feel like they go on _forever!_ ” The ex-sailor went through one of his famous tantrums as he fumed and raged, before calming down and almost crashing in emotion as he clung to Launchpad, “Scrooge is a moron… I-I’m a moron… I j-just want to s-see the kids again…” He quietly sobbed into LP’s chest as said duck watched as Donald’s torch burnout, leaving only his dimly lit one.

He held onto Donald as he got everything out of system, Launchpad quietly wondering himself if they would ever get out, “It's okay Donny,” but this wasn't the time for that, “I’m sure they’re okay,” he had a duck to worry about, “we’ll get out of here.”

“A-And if we don't?”

“Then… at least we have each other,” he did his best to give his signature smile, but it just felt forced. Even with the forced smile Donald steadied his breathing.

Both ducks watched as the flames of Launchpad’s torch were coming to an end Donald held out his hand, “I don't want to be alone…”

Launchpad held his hand tight, “You won't…” and as the final embers gave out both ducks moved for one final kiss before the darkness set it…

…

…

... Until they found themselves bathed in faint blue light that filled the tunnel. Both ducks looked above to see glowing crystals that lead from where they were all the way down the cave, like a pathway.

Only then did it click with Launchpad, “OH MY GOD THAT'S IT!!! It was right in front of us and we didn't even see it!”

“See what?”

“Don't you get it?” LP asked as he grabbed Donald by the shoulders, “ _‘A single Leap of Faith will bathe those worthy in the Light of Darkness’_ , that's what the riddle said. It literally meant bathed in the light of darkness, these crystals only glow if there isn't any other source of light! People are always worried that they don't have something to light their way, so they end up lost in the tunnels- you just have to be willing to let go in order to see! We can follow them to the end, that's where the treasure has to be!” Launchpad didn't give Donald a word in edgewise as he grabbed his hand and shuffled him off.

Sonner as they began following the crystals they came across another stone door, which they pushed in. On the other side was a huge, empty room that had what seemed like a coffin in the center with a single coin bathed in light.

And there they also found everyone else, “Kids!” Donald shouted as he ran over and pulled them into a tight embrace.

Scrooge walked over to Launchpad and stuck his cane into his chest, “What took ye so long?” H asked, laughing in joy seeing his pilot and nephew safe.

As the family reconciled Scrooge led the newcomers over to the coffin which had an inscription on is saying _‘Take what is given, give what is taken’_ , “If I’m interpretin’ it correctly we would have to take somethin’ that was given to us, and the only thing I can really think of- since there's nothing else here- is… someone’s life.”

“Oh great!” Louie shouted into the emptiness, “ _Not only_ did we almost die numerous times trying to get here, but now the only way to get the treasure is to _sacrifice someone?!_ Ugh!” The young duck kicked around some dirt in frustration, “Why couldn't we run into The Beagle Boys or Glomgold or anyone else? At least we can _deal_ with a tangible presence… we can't do anything about the term of some ancient riddle,” Louie slumped over as his siblings and Webby comforted him.

Scrooge and Donald walked off trying to figure out what to do, Leaving launchpad on his own to mull over the riddle. It didn't take long for LP to realize what it was asking as he eyed the gold coin on top, “Uh, Mr. McDee?”

“Yes, Launchpad, what is it?”

“You wouldn't happen to have a gold coin on you, would you?”

Scrooge eyed his pilot, “Why?”

“Because I think i figured it out,” Launchpad proudly proclaimed. Scrooge, however skeptical, wanted to see what the pilot came up with, so reached into his coat pocket and flicked over what Launchpad wanted.

Taking the coin in hand he looked at the one on the coffin, “We're thinking about this too hard: Just because it's an old tomb doesn't mean the conditions of the riddle are ‘old’ as well,” He said as he scooped up the coffin coin into his hand and placed the one Scrooge gave him in the same spot, “It's saying exactly what it means: we need to give up something that we take, coin for coin.” Launchpad flicked it up before catching it and tossing it over to Scrooge, “‘To obtain, something of equal value must be lost’, The Law of Equivalent Exchange,” he proclaimed.

Scrooge stared at the coin in his possession as he noticed the one launchpad placed sunk into the coffin and the wall just ahead opened up, revealing a room of gold, jewels, and other assorted treasures.

The children cheered as the rushed over, Donald following suit, as Scrooge walked up to Launchpad and slapped him on the back, “Good work lad! You, my good Launchpad, have adventurer's blood in you!”

LP’s face turned red upon hearing that, “Aw shucks, thanks boss! I’m just doing what I thought was right.”

“And right you were,” Scrooge commended as he and Launchpad joined the others.

Scrooge instructed everyone the grab what they could in their packs before they left, McDuck walking up to the door on the other end of the treasure room and pressed down the statue next to it. There was a loud rumbling from the outside just as the stone doors in front of him collapsed forward, revealing the outside.

With a whisk of fresh air everyone basked in the cool breeze as they cheered and whooped, all standing with a view of the mountain range once again. Scrooge ruffled the kids’ feathers as well as shook the hands of his nephew and pilot, “Well, that was somethin’ wasn't it? A wee longer than our other travels so far, what did you kids think?”

“I think I’m happy to have fresh air again,” Louie voiced, getting nods of agreement from the others.

“And if I heard it correctly then those huge walls from earlier collapsed, which mean we can just go around to get to the plane!” Webby explain, getting a sigh of relief from Dewey.

“Oh good! I thought we’d have to go all the way through again!”

As the Duck family and Launchpad continued to talk about their experience and such they all failed to notice they weren't alone until said other figure started clapping.

In an instant everyone tensed up as the turned to see a slightly bulky figure in a grey hoodie and sweatpants, hood up, “Well, Well, Well… Scrooge McDuck. You really are the world's greatest adventurer, aren't you? Though I would maybe a little slow… I’ve been waiting out here _for hours!_ I would’ve believed you would’ve had this tomb done in no time,” The person had a voice that was a bit gravely, but still and a nice baritone and smoothness to it and… was kinda familiar.

Scrooge brought his family closer as there was something… dark about the person, but didn't know what, “Who are ye?”

He turned around, hood still obscuring his face, “Oh how rude of me, I know all about you, but you don't know me. My apologies. My name is Vincent,” the figure removed his hood to reveal white feathers, a large chin, and fiery orange hair:

“Vincent _McQuack…_ ”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin."_
> 
>  
> 
> -André Berthiaume

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the chapter you've all been waiting for- or so i think.
> 
> Here is where you finally get to see the mysterious duck that popped in a few times: Vincent McQuack and let me tell you... He's not someone you want to be around, and you're about to find out why.
> 
> You spot any mistakes tell me and I'll fix them!

“My apologies. My name is Vincent,” the figure removed his hood to reveal white feathers, a large chin, and fiery orange hair, “Vincent McQuack.” The duck before them had similar chin to Launchpad, with more of a beard shadow, orange hair that was cut to a buzz on the sides- leaving a brushed back tuft on top, and an anakin braid falling on his shoulder.

Everyone was left stunned, “McQuack?” Dewey quizzed, “Isn't that Launchpad’s-” Dewey was firmly cut off when he saw Launchpad's face: pure, unadulterated, _fear_. The duck’s eyes were the widest Dewey had ever seen them and he also caught a glimpse of the slight tremble to his hands, “Launchpad?”

Never had Dewey seen such a whirlwind of emotions flow past his best friend- fear, disgust, anger, confusion, and worry- before he looked down at him with a smile, “Yeah?”

“He has your last name.”

“Yeah,” Launchpad glared back at the opposing duck, “ _he does._ ”

The other duck, Vincent, looked shocked to see Launchpad staring at him like that, “Why I’m hurt _Lawrence_ , you didn't tell your _little friends_ about me? That's not very nice,” the duck’s tone was cool and even, much to the bothersome of Launchpad, “after all… _we're family!_ ”

“Family?”

“Lawrence?”

“Wait, your name’s not really Launchpad?” Asked Webby, confusion written across her face.

“‘Launchpad’? Oh! You still have people call you by that _ridiculous_ nickname? I must say Lawrence that's pretty sad,” Vincent teased, running his hand through his tuft of hair.

“I don't want to hear _anything_ from **you!** And Launchpad _is_ my real name… I had it changed,” Launchpad was oddly… passive, even with the short burst of anger at the beginning. He was more fidgety too.

“Well… _Launchpad_ , are you going to introduce me to your friends? There no need to be rude…”

Scrooge, Donald, and the kids looked at Launchpad unexpectedly, “This is Vincent, my _older brother_ ,” The entire family reeled at this new information, but LP paid them no mind as he continued to glare at his brother the best he could, “How are you here? You’re supposed to be in _prison!_ ”

“ _That is_ the question, now isn't it? _Normally_ a life sentence would be enough to put someone away… unlucky for you that I’m not one to sit still,” Vincent snapped his fingers and from around them mangy dogs, ducks, and other animals dropped around them- all wearing similarly ragged, black clothing- all with malicious grins that didn't bode well for the Duck family, “When you spend the next four years on the run you make some… _unsavory_ friends and I love it!”

“F… F-Four years?”

“Yes dear brother, four years. It's been a _hassle_ trying to track you down. After you left St. Canard records of any Lawrences moving anywhere were virtually nonexistent- which makes sense now because of your name change- and even mom and dad weren’t all too helpful. Even then when I tried to ask nicely they _still didn’t tell me where you went… a shame_ really.”

That had a cold sweat running down Launchpad’s spine, “What… What did you do?”

“What any sensible person would’ve done,” Vincent began as he dug around in his hoodie pocket before tossing down the broken pair of goggles, “get rid of the problem.”

Launchpad’s throat dried up at the sight of the goggles, “Th... T-Those are… m-mom’s…” Pure fear filled him once again as he looked at his brother, “ _What did you do?!_ ”

“Oh come now Launch you should know me better than that, their not dead I assure you, but I just had to make sure they didn’t tell any of the wrong people that I was out and about… I’m pretty sure they got the message,” his laugh, no matter how light heart-hearted it sounded, was shivering and vacant, “Now why don’t you be a good little brother and come here.”

Launchpad didn't move and because of that all the other lackeys with Vincent did, pulling out 9mm pistols and aiming them at the family. Vincent pulled out one of his own but it was slightly different than the ones the others had, “I’ve done my research and I know _you_ , Scrooge McDuck, have made a lot of enemies, but the one thing I had soon found out was that… none of them carry proper weapons, do they?” He raised his gun and aimed it at Scrooge, “Must be difficult to face someone you can’t use your wits on, huh? Now,” his attention was drawn to Launchpad, “if you don't want to see them riddled with bullets then I suggest you **listen** and **Come. Here.** ”

The fact that they had guns trained on his family irked the old duck like no other, but that didn't mean he was going to back down, “Launchpad he’s bluffing there's no way he-” He promptly shut up as Launchpad pushed his way past Scrooge, Donald, and the kids, “Launchpad?”

“Nothing he says is empty,” Launchpad voiced as he continued to walk forward, every step heavier than the last. He had stopped for a moment, back to them, before he turned around… and had the _warmest smile_ anyone had ever seen, “It okay, we’ll be okay, nothing’s going to happen… I promise.” In that instant, even though they were still scared, Huey, Dewey, Louie, and Webby felt at ease. They felt… safe.

They only held onto that feeling for a moment before Vincent shattered the illusion, “There’s no need to lie to them Launchpad, it’s rude to give children false hope.”

Launchpad steeled himself as he made his way over to Vincent and stood horizontally from him, giving the Duck family sight of both of them. They were almost identical, older/younger mirrors of each other, “You know, it _is_ good to see you again Law- Launchpad, ‘cause I’ve waited _so long_ ,” in a flash Vincent raised his gun and pistol-whipped Launchpad across the face. _Hard_.

“Launchpad!” The children cried as they watched their friend and pilot fall to the ground like nothing. He had turned back to his brother as the kids saw that his beak was cut and watched him spit out a glob of blood before standing back up.

“You seem to have forgotten everything that I taught you, brother, why don't we fix that?” Vincent seemed like he was trying to burn holes in Launchpad’s jacket, “Let's start with this persona you’ve made for yourself… you’re such an _idiot_ , believing that just because you have a flight jacket and fly a plane makes you a pilot. Take it off.”

“What-”

_Whap!_

“Did I stutter? I said: _**Take. It. Off.**_ ” Launchpad messaged his face for a second before getting off the ground once again. Though he had no expression written it didn't take a genius to know that he was scared, the point punctuated when he brought his hands up to the zipper and were visibly shaking, “We don't have all day, HURRY UP!!!” And there it was, exactly what Vincent wanted to see… he _flinched_.

****

****

Satisfaction was written across the brother’s face as he watched Launchpad slowly unzip the jacket and peeled it off, “Good,” he was back to his calm tone, “now throw it away.”

Launchpad stared at the jacket in his hands before shutting his eyes and throwing it towards the Duck family, Dewey and Webby scrambling to get it.

Though he was scared that didn't mean he wouldn’t stand tall, “You have me, that should be enough, there’s no need to get them involved. Please, I’m begging you-”

“Begging me? Oh, well isn't that a wonderful blast to the past, right Launchy? After all… you would know a thing or two about _begging_ ,” Vincent's eyes grew dark as his smile became more… _predatory_. He stalked a little closer, “You’ve worked _so hard_ to be a different man,” Vincent got up real close and whispered in Launchpad’s ear, “ _why don't we tell them a few of your secrets…_ ”

Launchpad’s eyes widened, “N-No, please, please don’t-” His words fell when his brother leveled his gun at him.

“If you think I won't shoot my own brother, then you are _sorely mistaken_ ,” Launchpad was frozen he couldn't do anything, “So why don't you _shut your trap_ while I do a bit of storytelling, hmm?”

“You know Scrooge,” Vincent started, not giving Launchpad time to respond, “I’m quite surprised that you hired my brother here, when we were younger he was known to have… _sticky fingers._ ”

“N-No, Scrooge, i would-”

_Whap!_

“He just doesn't know how to listen, _does he?_ ” Vincent punctuated with a swift kick to Launchpad’s midsection, sending him tumbling close to the edge, “As i was saying: He could get his hands on watches, wallets, and just about anything else with ease. He was a pretty skinny kid when he was younger so he’d slip by unnoticed. Of course he would only take things that I wanted, but those types of habits down die out completely- I suggest counting your money later!”

The kids felt helpless as they watched Launchpad groan and force himself to his knees, noticeable bruises forming on his face, “Are you going to listen now? ‘Cause the longer you stall the longer Scrooge and them are put in danger, and you don't want that do you?”

“...no…” Launchpad muttered.

“I’m sorry, what was that? Speak up.”

“...No, I don't.”

“Good! So does that mean you’re going to let your big brother tell a story without interruption?”

Launchpad’s eyes dulled as couldn't look anywhere but the ground, “Y-Yes…”

“Good, now Scrooge, kids, Donald, I was sent to prison for _murder_ … And _Launchpad_ should’ve joined me.”

“That's not-” _Whap!_

“LEARN TO SHUT YOUR _**FUCKING BILL**_ IF YOU KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU!” This had been the fourth time Launchpad was bashed over the head with the pistol and it was starting to take its toll, his vision ever so blurry, his body feeling dizzy, and his hearing fading out sound just a bit. He spit out more blood as Vicnet fixed his clothes.

“Now… where was I? Ah! Yes… That fact that launchpad should’ve joined me in prison,” He took a few step closer to the Duck family causing Scrooge and Donald to huddle the kids closer, “You may _think_ that ‘Launchpad’ is kind and naive and a bit of a goofball, but in actuality… that couldn't be farther from the truth. My brother has a… reputation back in St. Canard, and it wasn't for picking daisies, oh no… your ‘pilot’ is a lot darker than you know…”

_____

_November 23, 2004…_

_The sky was dark with rain clouds as it began to drizzle and the streets were empty… leaving only two brothers._

_In a decrepit alleyway stood Vincent McQuack, 22 years old and built. He wore a pair of tattered jeans and a black henley with a few buttons undone. He leaned up against the wall as he waited for his brother to return, and soon enough he did peeking his head around the corner._

_Lawrence McQuack, 16 years old and thin. He wasn't a string bean as he did have some muscle, but not enough to be categorized as “big”. He wore a green baseball cap, a grey T-shirt, and blue jeans. He also had on a cream-colored scarf that his father had gifted him, “Lawrence, you’re back! Did you get what I asked for?”_

_“Y-Yeah, I did, “ the younger brother answered, reaching behind him and revealing a Heckler and Koch VP9 9mm pistol wrapped in cloth, “n-no one knows we- **you** have it.”_

_“Excellent,” the older brother took the gun out of Lawrence’s possession and examined it. Everything seems to be in order and other than a few scuffs it was in perfect condition. Vincent checked the clip to find it was fully loaded, “perfect,” he uttered before putting the clip back in the gun._

_“Vinny, you s-still haven’t told me why you wanted it…”_

_“Oh don't worry, you’ll find out soon,” and as if on cue, from down the alley, came out of the darkness was a young stork with ash-grey feathers and wavy brown hair, “Ah, Samantha, how great of you to join us!”_

_“Sammy?” Lawrence quizzed as he approached the young bird only a year older than him,”What are you doing here?”_

_“You brother called me and told me to meet him here, but…” Samantha trailed off as she caught a glimpse of the gun in Vincent’s hands, “W-Where did you get that?”_

_“What, this? Don't worry about it… As long as I get the answers I want then everything should be fine. Lawrence, come here,” the young duck walked over without hesitation as he was beckoned, standing by his brother’s side- albeit confused, “good, now Samantha I’m going to ask you a simple question: Do you have my money?”_

_“Wha- Are you serious right now? That's what you called me out here to ask?” Samantha was completely exasperated by this, she didn't know what to say. She had borrowed a hundred bucks from him many months ago and said she’d pay it back eventually, but always forgot one way or another. During that time, however, Vincent became more and more insistent on her paying it back to a point where she almost stopped talking to him. She was Lawrence’s best friends after all, so she would just hang out with him and avoid Vincent. He had gotten better that last two weeks and that's why she agreed to meet him, but it seems like nothing had changed._

_Except one thing._

_Because of her answer, Vincent whacked Samantha across the face and knocking her to the ground. She cried out in pain and when the younger brother went to help her he was stopped by the arm of Vincent, “Help her and I’ll show what pain **really** is.”_

_After so many threats coming to life Lawrence knew better than to disobey his brother._

_But his blood ran cold when his older brother smacked Samantha once again before cocking the gun and aiming it on the young girl, “W-What are y-you doing??”_

_“Teaching her a lesson,” Vincent reveled in the mix of emotions that flew through Samantha’s face: confusion, recognition, and **fear**. Glorious **fear.**_

_“N-Now Vincent y-you don't want to do this… please.”_

_“What was that?”_

_“P-Please, don't do this.”_

_He smiled, “Say it again.”_

_“P-Please, don't do this!”_

_Lawrence saw the fear in her eyes, had not believing his brother would do something like this, he did his best to calm her down, “It’s okay, you’ll be okay, nothing’s going to-”_

_**BANG!** ___

____

____

_____

“You shot a young girl… for _100 bucks?!_ ” Scrooge roared like he had never done before. He was _**furious!**_

“Yes, I did. I gave her ample time to pay it back, but I believe that she thought that being friends with my brother would’ve exempted her from her tasks… so I took care of the problem. I’m greedy, and because of that makes us similar Scrooge.”

“I am _**nothing**_ like you!”

“Hmm… Maybe not,” he glanced down at Launchpad, a sickening grin forming, “but me and Launchpad are _most certainly_ more alike than you think.” The large duck repeatedly punched, smacked, and kicked Launchpad at any given moment during this period as he talked, “I killed his thieving _bitch_ of a best friend, and how does he repay me? By sucker-punching me and _running to the cops…_ A _pathetic display_ of repentance. Because of this _moron_ I was arrested and sentenced to 25 years to life in prison and he should’ve joined me if it weren't for the fact that he denied knowing anything about the gun or how I got it. But I knew… I knew that when I got out that I would find him and _**Make. Him. Pay.**_ And what better way to do that then tear him down in front of the people he cares about?”

Vincent grabbed the beaten Launchpad lifted him to his feet, the pilot swaying ever so slightly, “Not only his the blood of his best friend metaphorically on his hands, but he’s stained in the most _literal way._ Launchpad’s never killed anyone… but the blood one those he’s beaten to a pulp certainly is,” He stared into the eyes of his brother and saw _exactly_ what he wanted to see, “Do you have something to say Launchpad?”

The pilot responded by spitting blood in Vincent’s face and throwing a dark scowl his way, “ _Fuck. You._ I hope you _burn in hell_ for this!” The raw emotion and anger has never been heard by the Duck family from Launchpad and it certainly was reeling. Everything about the pilot they knew: his kind eyes, his warm smile, his goofy personality, was all gone in their place was a man full of rage and hate, dark eyes, and gritted teeth.

Launchpad was _seething_ in anger as his breathing got heavier and louder, “I’m going to-”

“What? What are you going to do? Last time I checked you listen _**to me**_ and I still have Scrooge and them under aim so if you so much as _touch me…_ I will make sure you never see them again,” Vincent reached out and the moment he came in contact with Launchpad fear set in once again, but the anger still held firm, “Why do we show them what you’re _**really hiding!**_ ” Vincent explained as Launchpad’s shirt was torn away from him.

Everyone, except Donald, were astonished by what they were looking at: Launchpad, the man they all considered a friend and a kind soul, covered in any and all scars imaginable. They had never seen such damage done to a living being, but there it was… lining Launchpad’s body like a book. Burn marks, jagged scars, bullet wounds, and whatever other signs of distress they could see but couldn't decipher riddled the duck’s chest, sides, abdomen, and back- some damage led up and bit past his shoulder but other than that his arms seemed virtually untouched by the horrors.

Donald was _fuming_ , anger beginning to inflame in his face. Vincent had **no right** to show something so _personal_ to Launchpad, acting like he was showing off a cool tattoo, but what happened afterward almost had Donald leaping out at the duck.

Launchpad stood in front of them, but refusing to look at them, “Don't avoid it Launchy, look at them,” he refused, “I said… _look at them!_ ” He grabbed his face and jerked him towards everyone, fear, regret, and anger written on his face, “See, isn't that better?”

Launchpad didn't say anything.

“You know, I never thought you’d be this… _muscular… **I like it**_ ,” He holstered his gun and started caressing Launchpad’s arms and collarbone, squeezing the muscles every so often. Donald did everything his power not to shout obscenities, as this _freak_ groped his boyfriend, while guns were trained on them, so he channeled that feeling in keeping the kids from seeing such a… disgusting scene, even if nothing was “really” happening.

As Vincent moved down Launchpad’s abdomen, getting closer to the waistband of his pants, that's when he had enough, “Stop, no more.” Vincent froze.

“Stop? I thought… you see to believe you have a choice in this. Well then,” Vincent reached behind him before he embedding a hunting knife into Launchpad’s shoulder, “I guess we’ll just have to _cut it out again_ , now won't we?”

His wails of anguish shook everyone to the core, “ _Launchpad!_ ” The kids and Donald cried out seeing their friend in such pain, it was almost too much, “Leave him alone!” Dewey shouted.

“Leave him alone? Come on kid we're just getting to the _fun part!_ ” Vincent grunted as he unsheathed the blade from his brother’s shoulder, splashing blood on his jeans as it ran down Launchpad’s back.

He grabbed a fistful of LP’s hair and forced him up to look at them, “Most of _these beauties_ ,” he directed to the family and he traced the blade around LP’s scars, “are my handiwork. Take it to heart kids: _This_ is what happens you don't listen, and Lawrence here had a streak of _**Not. Listening.**_ I’m sad to say, though, that I wish I could take credit for all of it, but I can't.”

His smile grew darker and darker, “When Launchpad here couldn't settle something through words, he settled it with his fists… and trust me when I said he has a short fuse. I can't even _tell you_ all of the people I have had to pull this _fucker_ off of before he killed them, so like the good big brother that I was I helped him channel his anger into something productive: Underground fights!”

 _‘What?!’_ They all thought as they stared blankly at Vincent, “Oh yes, your loveable pilot here was _quite_ the fighter. He had been a quarter of his size now when he faced people three times the height and twice as strong as me, and beat them to a pulp _every time._ In just a few years he won us a shit ton of money, and during that time he built himself up a reputation. It’s why it was so easy to fetch that gun all those years ago, what did they call you Launchy? I can't recall.”

The beaten pilot had the hardest glare as he looked at Donald, Scrooge, and the kids, but they knew it wasn't for them, “I’m going to kill you…” He gritted through his teeth.

“Ooh! Did you hear that he threatened my life! I guess he tired of being nice and stupid, huh? But that's **not** what I asked,” he slammed Launchpad into the ground and kicked him right in the burns and stab wound, white-hot pain shooting through his entire body.

It was such a raw, primal scream that tears began flowing down his and the Duck’s family’s faces. It was too much for them to watch, and anger brewed in both Donald, Scrooge, and the kids- mainly Dewey.

Vincent picked his brother back up by the hair and chuckled, “Such a screamer, had to burn that out of him too- Now Lawrence I’m gonna ask again, what did they call you in St Canard? After all, it was pretty iconic over there.”

“Launchpad huffed out of his nostrils as his anger stewed, “ _Hellfire… Hellfire McQuack…_ ”

“Hellfire McQuack, that’s what it was! They called you that because, in their eyes, you were something… _unnatural._ Like the name said, you brought the Fires of Hell down upon _everyone_ you encountered,” Vincent proclaimed. In that moment he came up with an idea.

“Hold him,” he told two of his lackeys as they pulled Launchpad up and pinned his arms, his struggling was for naught as he didn't have enough strength.

Launchpad’s older brother traced his crimson-stained blade along his burn and scars, “You know you have a big mouth on you… a shame I’m not in the mood,” he muttered as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rag and gagged the pilot, much to his dismay, “And for as long as I’ve known you I’ve come realize that with all that happened…” The blade traced around Launchpad’s waistband, “...you _enjoyed_ some of what I did… and that makes you feel _dirty_ , doesn't it?” Launchpad squirmed and struggled but under Vincent’s touch- both fearing and enraged by him, “So I’ve got a question: Which one you fucking? McDuck?” He grabbed his gun once again and aimed it at Scrooge, “I wouldn't blame you, it's pretty smart- an easy way to get close to the money. Hmm… No, you wouldn't do that. So how about,” he leveled his gun on Donald, “The nephew?”

Launchpad struggled harder.

“The nephew! Oh this is too good,” his speech so far had been lower enough so that the group wouldn't hear, but no longer, “Scrooge can I ask you a question?”

“What?”

“Did you know my brother here was screwing your nephew?”

That threw Scrooge for a loop, “I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah, from I just got out of little Launchy here is that he’s been screwing ol’ Donald there for some time, right?” He looked into Launchpad’s eyes to see fury within them, “Yep, it's been a while. I’m guessing you, and the kids, didn't know that,” he leveled his sight on Donald, “I wonder why you didn't tell them… are you ashamed? Disgusted by how you feel? Maybe it’s because you find yourself just as _pathetic_ as my brother here just for fucking him!”

“ _Screw you!_ ” Donald quacked while being just barely held back by his Uncle who was still stunned hearing this news.

“Well I wouldn't want Lawrence here to be jealous, I am the better lay… and he would know,” he voiced, a sickening grin on his features, “But if you’ve been with my brother for a while then how did you not know of his anger issues? I said before he has a short fuse, it's also the reason why I was so surprised when I saw him with the kiddies here, people around him usually _burn_ if they get too close… Actually,” Vincent thought of something as he glanced at the children.

Vincent proceed to walk over to the Duck family and began pointing at the kids, “Huey… Louie… Webby…” He landed on the middle triplet and smiled, “and Dewey… Grab him.” As another lackey went to take Dewey the kids screamed and tried to fight them off, only to be knocked away with ease. Donald and Scrooge wanted to do something, but the moment the barrels of guns were pressed into their backs they stood still.

Dewey struggled the entire time trying to get free, “Let go of me!” But it didn't manner how much he struggled he couldn't manage to slip out of his jacket or shirt. He only stopped and glared when Vincent strolled over to him.

Launchpad whimpered as his older brother got closer and closer to Dewey, fearing what he might do, “So, Dewford Duck, has being close to my brother burned you yet?”

“I don't know what you’re talking about.”

“Trust me, I know my brother’s anger better than anyone and I can tell when he's hurt someone- let's investigate, shall we?” Vincent quizzed as he poked Dewey repeatedly with his finger. Launchpad tried to fight his captures, but the blood loss, however slow, was starting to take a toll, and his pain only increased when Vincent prodded Dewey right side and he winced, “Ah, there it is.”

He slowly lifted Dewey’s shirt and when Launchpad glanced at the kids, Donald, and Scrooge he saw the moment that shock overwhelmed them and trust was bent and shattered.

Almost engulfing Dewey’s right side was a huge greenish-yellowish bruise and as Vincent poked at it he winced, “There’s Lawrence’s burn and pretty big too,” he closed his fist and lined it up, pressing into it, “Big enough for a fist, maybe bigger. Possibly multiple hits,” his smile stretched further, “I knew my brother couldn't help himself, he’ll always be that ball of rage that loves to play dirty.”

Both Donald and Scrooge looked in Launchpad’s direction with different faces- shock and betrayal- when Dewey piped up, “N-No! That’s not true! Launchpad would never hurt me, tell them guys!” He shouted at his brother and Webby.

They said nothing.

“Guys, what are you doing- tell them!”

They remained silent, it was all too much for them- everything the piled up- that they couldn't find their voice. That only worked to strengthen Scrooge’s betrayal and Donald’s confusion.

“I like you Dewey,” Vincent said bringing the knife up to his face, “You a fighter, just like my brother… and just like my brother you need to learn to be _quiet!_ ” The knife cut Dewey’s cheek just a bit, but it still left a medium sized cut- blood beginning to seep out.

Donald _snapped_. 

The duck quacked all around as he attacked the armed lackeys, managing to take out at least four of them before he caught Vincent in his sight and rushed him.

Vincent was unfazed, “I warned you.”

_**BANG!** _

It was almost cartoonish when Donald was shot, flying backward with such force before he skidded across the ground, “ _DONALD!_ ” The family shouted, rushing to his side.

The rest of the goons looked around at each other shocked, not really knowing what to do.

It was only when a deafening, primal roar emitted from Launchpad did they turned their attention to him. His newfound strength managed to shake off his captures as he smashed both of their heads into the mountain, knocking them out with only a slight trail of blood.

His eyes were wild as he ripped out the rag and smiled at Vincent, “ _I’LL KILL YOU!!!_ ” he lunged at his brother, getting a few strikes to his face before the other goons swarmed him.

Vincent stood back up, wiping the blood from his face, and smiling as he walked to the edge, “ _That's_ the McQuack I remember! The Fire, The Rage, The _Hatred_ \- that's all you’ve ever been brother, don't try to hide it!” He shouted before jumping off the edge…

...And some watched as his figure flew by as he stood on top of a bi-plane, “We’ll see each other again real soon!” Was all anyone heard before he was too far.

Launchpad didn't hear him though, Launchpad heard nothing.

All Launchpad knew… was _red._

He continued to roar, screech, howl, and quack as he tossed around the five or so guys that hung off of him- the rest of the other fled in their own plane or carried off any unconscious ones with them.

 

Almost none of them had their guns anymore, and the ones that did fired a few shots- two of which passed through LP and into some other goods-, but that didn't stop his fury. He took one dude and broke his leg before throwing him off, he took two more and kneed them both before smashed their heads together and knocking them out cold, and then he got hold of another one and broke a few ribs and an arm before breaking his snout with a heavy punch.

That only left one guy left.

The goon tried to run, but there was no stopping Launchpad. The moment the duck got ahold of him he screamed as white-hot pain racked up his leg, but his screaming didn't last long before his head collided with the stone and he was out cold. That didn't manner to Launchpad, he just needed something to hurt.

Over and over again did Launchpad’s fist smashed in the dude’s face- breaking his snout after the first two strikes- and he kept going as it became more and more of a bloody mess

“Launchpad.”

_Smash!_

“Launchpad.”

_Smash!_

“Launchpad!”

_Smash!_

“Launchpad please!”

_Smash!_

“ _LAUNCHPAD STOP!_ ”

The large fowl whipped his head around, blood splatter marking his face and the same crimson liquid drenching his fist, “ _ **What?!**_ ” he snarled… only to be met with a freaked out Webby with wide eyes and stepping back.

Only then did launchpad snap back into place, blinking a few times to clear his vision and shaking his head to clear out the anger, “W-Webby? What-”

“Launchpad please stop, he’s down, you don't have to keep beating him,” thought the young duck tried to remain calm, seeing the aftermath of what Launchpad had done was making it very difficult.

He realized that his hand was still clenched around the dude’s shirt, and when he looked back and saw the carnage that he had done he immediately dropped the man. He had no idea if the guy was still breathing or not, but he hopes to whatever god that he was.

As he stumbled back to his feet he heard something that ran his blood cold, “Webby! Get over here we need you!”

Launchpad whipped around the see Scrooge and the triplets huddled around Donald, trying to stop the bleeding the best they could. They had managed to get the out of Donald’s side, and it didn't seem like it hit anything important- luckily-, but he had passed out when they were working and now they were trying to get him up. It’s harder when their body is acting like dead weight.

“D… D-Donald?” LP’s voice quivered as he shuffled towards everyone, “Is… Is he-” He was cut off by the fact that the triplets shuffled away from him just slightly and Scrooge jabbed his cane into his chest.

“ _Don't. Just don't._ We have this handled, go get the plane ready.”

“But-”

“Do I need to repeat myself McQuack?! I said get the plane ready! NOW!”

The rage wafting off of Scrooge McDuck was enough to have Launchpad stumble back, and with one more look around seeing the anger, fear, and concern written into everyone’s features Launchpad knew better than to argue, “Y… Y-Yes Mr. McDuck, right away,” then Launchpad wandering off to The Sunchaser, tears only in his eyes once he was out of sight, _‘It’s over… he got what he wanted…’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely hope you don't hate me after this... I'm sorry! (*Ducks behind wall to hide from passionate readers*)
> 
> But for real though, Launchpad is and forever will be my favorite and I feel bad for doing this to him, but this is for the greater good I promise!
> 
> I'm also sorry for leaving you on a cliffhanger until I finish chapter 16, I'll try to get it finished as soon as I can to give you Chapter 13- and if any of you were curious I loosely based Vincent's design off of Nega Launchpad from Darkwing Duck; I thought I'd make a nice contrast to the Luanchpad we know and all love :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I left you guys stewing long enough. _(And Writer's block is kicking my ass right now, so I'm giving this to you guys early)_
> 
> I really hope you guys like this chapter, I had added things, rewrote things, and overall _hope_ this doesn't feel rushed or anything... I'd probably cry if it is _(Not really, but I'll be pretty irritated with myself ;P)_
> 
> Any mistakes, tell me, and I'll get right to them!

As the sun fell behind the mountains, the engines on the _Sunchaser_ roared to life as launchpad took off into the sky.

The warm amber light of the sunset shined into the cargo plane, but no one was enjoying the warm glow.

They couldn't get Donald up the ladder so Scrooge, Huey, and Dewey sat with him in the cargo bay and watching over him. Louie was off on the upper floor as far away from the pilot area as he could and Webby sat in one of the plane’s seats, fiddling with her hands as she debate what to do about Launchpad. Said pilot had been sotic ever since he got the plane into the air his jacket draped over his shoulder after it was thrown at him by the youngest triplet, an almost white knuckle grip on the control wheel as he refused to look at anywhere but the sky.

They had stayed in silence most of the time the Launchpad had flown, a thick cloud of tension and regret suffocating everyone as the fun and whimsy of the tomb long forgotten- they almost left the treasure behind if Webby didn't fetch it when they got Donald on the plane.

At a certain point Webby was fed up with how things were and wanted to do some good by it, so she went over to the pilot, “Uh… Launchpad?”

He didn't answer.

“You, uh… You need to get those wounds cleaned you know?”

“I’m fine,” his voice slightly horse and completely void of feeling.

“No you’re not, you _really_ need to get those cleaned up,” she leaned over to see a dark red spot forming on the back of launchpad’s jacket, “That knife wound might be pretty bad and we don't want it to get infected, it's probably going to need stitches.”

“ _I’m. Fine._ ”

“Launchpad please I’m telling you-you're not, I really think-”

“ _I SAID I’M FINE!!!_ ” his raw voice echoed throughout the plane having Webby take a few steps back and flinch since she was so close to him.

Seeing her retreat and mistaking it as fear- which it was, but only a bit- he immediately receded into his seat and refusing to look back at her, “I… I-I’m s-sorry for yelling, but… I just want to be left alone right now Webbigail…”

“Oh… o-okay,” Webby stuttered out as she walked away from the pilot. Never had Launchpad used her full name before and even though it wasn't in an authoritative way he used it show that he was serious.

As Webby walked away from Launchpad slumped further into his seat, _‘I didn't mean to yell at her… I just didn't want to talk and she was bothering me…’_ He growled before slamming a hand into the dashboard, _‘She was just checking up on you… you’re injured and that knife and those bullet wounds aren't going to clean themselves…’_ Launchpad sat in silence for a little longer, calming himself, before pressing the green button he installed and got up and went into the cargo hold.

He needed to grab the first aid kit and get patches over the wound in his shoulder blade and the ones in his front and side, to slow down the bleeding. The only problem with that was the first aid kit was behind Scrooge and the boys, and Launchpad wasn't sure if he could look at any of them, especially Donald, without breaking down or snapping.

But he had to, or he might die of blood loss if he didn't do something soon.

Sucking in a breath, Launchpad slowly made his way over to the group in hopes that they wouldn’t notice him right away.

How wrong he was.

The moment they caught a glimpse of him Huey and Dewey moved around so they we behind Scrooge and said uncle gritted his teeth and glared at the pilot, “ _What?_ ”

“I… I need the med kit.”

“Oh _do you now?_ Why don't you just **burn** them shut? You have plenty of experience with that…”

The hostility wasn't unfounded, but Scrooge’s comment was and that's what made Launchpad upset. The large fowl clamped his beak shut to prevent from growling and balled his fists up, “You **know** that’s not what these are… I just need the first aid kit so I can clean and cover them. _**Don't**_ make this any harder than it has to be.”

“Or what? You gonna punch me? Strike me, just like ye did Dewey?”

“ _I DIDN'T HIT HIM!_ ” Snapped Launchpad as Huey and Dewey cowered further, “I would NEVER hit him or _any of them!_ ”

“And why should aye believe you? Ye sure did a number on a few on those lackeys, you still got blood staining yer feathers!” Scrooge threw back, pointing at the splatter on Launchpads’ face, arms, and chest while specifically looking at LP’s crimson covered fist.

“Donald was _shot,_ how did you expect me to act?! My brother shows up and _**everything**_ that I’ve worked on and for… **Gone!** Everything that I’ve done to make up for the past… **destroyed!** ” He stared into the eyes of the three duck in front of him and found no semblance of warmth or compassion, just anger and fear, “And the people who once trusted me… cower in fear after seeing what I did.”

His spike of rage faded in an instant and left a hollow duck standing in front of Scrooge, “Dewey got hurt when we went rock climbing, he had on a faulty harness- nobody knew at the time- and hit his side. I _swear_ to you Scrooge, I would _**never**_ lay a _**finger**_ on Dewey, On Webby, on any of them… There isn’t a single part of me that would enjoy seeing them in pain,” He saw the uncertainty in the brother’s two and when he panned up he saw the look of pity in Webby’s eyes while he saw the look of betrayal in Louie’s, “And they already are because of me.”

His fists trembled as he shut his eyes, “You don't have to like me, hell _hate me_ for all I care at this point, but all I want is the med kit and I’ll get out of your feathers.”

Scrooge was conflicted: he wanted to take his cane and beat this liar senseless, but he didn't want to stoop to “his level”- as his mind called it. He glanced back at the first aid kit and thought for a moment. He didn't really know if he _wanted_ to give it Launchpad, and because of this moment of hesitation that sent Dewey over the edge.

After everything that happened, all that was thrown at them, he was _tired_ of feeling _scared…_ of his _best friend no less!_ And seeing his uncle hesitate over something simple as the first aid kit irritated him, “Just give it to him already!”

This shocked Scrooge, “Dewey-”

“He’s telling the truth he didn't hit me it was an accident, just give it to him and stop being so difficult!”

Scrooge blinked a few times before reaching behind him and handing over the first aid kit, but not without hooking the handle with his cane and pulling Launchpad closer, “We’ll be havin’ a chat when we get back… only then will aye decide what to do with ye…”

Launchpad nodded solemnly, “Of course Scrooge,” before walking away.

“And Launchpad?”

“Hm?”

“How’s the plane still in the air even though you’re down here?”

Launchpad smiled, albeit sadly, “Installed an autopilot… was supposed to be a surprise…”

_____

Mrs. Beakley was doing some dusting in Scrooge’s Study when she heard a knock on the front door, “They must’ve just gotten back,” she said to herself as she headed for the door, “Welcome back how was-” Her greeting fell out as her throat closed up as she saw the solemn faces of everyone as well as the condition Donald and Launchpad were in, “What happened?!”

“Ask _McQuack,_ ” Spat Louie as he pushed his way inside.

Beakey helped Scrooge get Donald set up in The Study as the rest of the family huddled around him.

Everyone except Launchpad, he sat away from everyone as he faced them.

Beakley grabbed a medkit and began going over Launchpad’s injuries as Scrooge filled her in on what went down at the tomb: the tomb itself, LP’s secret brother, everything that his said brother told them, and what they witnessed Launchpad do. Beakley was thrown completely off kilter, none of it makes sense. For as long as Launchpad worked for Scrooge he had been nothing but kind, silly, and determined, but she couldn't deny the evidence as she cleaned the blood off Launchpad's hand, face, and body and stitched up the knife wound in his shoulder blade.

The Study was mostly silent other than the crackle of the fireplace and the occasional hisses from Launchpad as Beakley worked on him. After a while, Scrooge asked a question, “Who are ye?”

“Launchpad McQuack,” LP said with no hesitation.

“No ye aren’t.”

Launchpad had expected this, but it didn't irritate him any less, “As far as I’m concerned the duck I used to be is _**dead**_ and what is left is what you see before you, I’ve been Launchpad McQuack for years now so when I say that's who I am then that's _who I am._ ”

“Okay, fair point. Better question: Who are ye _really?_ ”

That question, on the other hand, caused Launchpad to chuckle, “What do you want to know first?”

“Your past,” Huey piped up, “we know nothing about you, so sorry if I’m a little cautious after what we heard from your brother.”

“And that's fair Huey…” Launchpad continued to stare at the ground and twiddle his thumbs before letting out a sigh, “Vincent was telling the truth, all of it. Let's start with the simple: My name used to be Lawrence Ellroy McQuack, my dad called me ‘Launchpad’ because I was a ball of energy when I was younger. My parents are stunt pilots, I didn't lie about that, I just… left out Vincent when I talked about them: It was my parents, Vincent, Loopy, and me. Vincent’s six years older than me, three years older than Loopy.”

After a few hisses from Beckley's stitching he managed to look up at the family, “I grew up in St Canard and… it wasn't the nicest of places. The place was riddled with gangs, crime, and all sorts of other bad things- if you can think it St Canard had it. It’s one of the reasons I gravitated to _Darkwing Duck…_ I thought if the city had a hero like him, then maybe it wouldn't be such a bad place.”

“Our parents did their best to keep us from falling over to the dark side… it just grabbed onto Vincent a little tighter,” Tears struggled to fall, but he fought them back, “Vincent didn’t always use to be the way you saw him, he used to be the best! He and I were really close when I was young: we would play together, hang out together, tell jokes to one another… we were family.”

The small smile Launchpad had on as he reminisced slowly faded as his eyes darkened once again, “When I was six he started to change: he grew distant, he didn't smile as often, and any time my parents would talk to him he would snap at them. I don't really know what happened or what drove him to start acting like this, but... I guess it doesn't really matter now." The light in Launchpad's eyes dulled the longer he talked, "That's how it was for a year until everything seemed to go back to normal, Vincent acted like himself again and I was so relieved. But… when we were alone,” his voice started getting shaky, “his smile was… _hungry._ ”

Launchpad did want to talk about this part, he didn't want to remember what happened- he just wanted everything to go back to how it was!

But it couldn't, not ever again. You can only rebuild from the pieces, but nothing will ever be perfect again, “He… did things to me, things I wouldn't _dare_ repeat in front of the kids. He would… _use me_ when he felt… _needy,_ ” every word he spoke was like acid to him, “It would… hurt, he never did anything to make me feel better since it was all for _him_ : his needs, his pleasures, and every time I said ‘No’ or pushed him away or tried to leave… He would leave me a little reminder of why I shouldn't deny him,” he voice, absentmindedly tracing one of his smaller scars.

Launchpad reached for his waistband and lowered the right said, stunning everyone as they stared a jagged “V. M.” carved into his skin, “He made sure I knew who I belonged to.”

Beakley and Scrooge were sick to their stomachs, almost visibly turning green as Launchpad talked. The kids, young but not stupid, understood what Launchpad implied and any resentment they developed from the tomb to the Manor had faded almost completely away.

Scrooge’s grip on his cane tightened, _‘To do that… to a child no less, it's repulsive!_ ’ “Launchpad… I’m sorry, I didn't know.” Like the kids, Scrooge's anger began to simmer out the longer the duck went on.

“How could you? I don't like to think about it and just talking about hurts and makes me want to throw up… but I felt like if you didn't know then you might accuse me of keeping more secrets from you, and I didn't want to deepen your distrust for me further.”

“Launchpad,” Scrooge was irritated again, but for a different reason, “something _so personal_ as that I would _never_ hold against someone because they wouldn't tell me. An experience like that… changes you, and I’m not going to even try to understand what you went through, I can't, but what I _can do_ is commend you for telling us. I couldn't have been easy.”

“It never is, and don't think it ever will,” LP’s face drew a blank before he shook himself out of his daze, “Anyway, because of everything Vincent did it changed me for the lack of a better word. I felt like garbage every time he’d yell at me, but feel ‘special’ when we were alone because he was giving me all of his attention. Vincent used that to get me to do things for him and I always accepted because I never wanted to see him mad… mad acquainted with pain, and I didn't like pain.”

“You would steal for him,” Dewey added, “You stole because that’s what he wanted and if you did what he asked then everything would be fine."

“Yeah, that's why I tried to tell you at the tomb: I have not and _will not_ steal from you Scrooge, I hated it then and I hate it now,” Scrooge nodded in understanding, waiting for Launchpad to continue:

“I spent _years_ under his thumb and my parents were none the wiser, my brother was _very good_ at hiding things, and during that time I started to… _depend_ on him because, in my mind, I had to. After everything that he did to me, I thought nobody else would accept me as I was… and that made me _mad,_ ” Launchpad knitted his brows in frustration, “If you couldn't tell I have a bit of an anger issue, throughout the years of torment it just grew worse and worse. I would be set off by the smallest things: a careless mumble, an irritating situation, someone trying to get a rise out of me- anything, if it happened I blew up.”

“I started getting into heaps of trouble and my parents weren't too happy with me, and I couldn't tell them what was wrong because if I did Vincent he would hurt my sister and… I couldn't live with myself if something happened to her,” the pilot’s eyes were glossy, but he had no tears.

“People I picked fights with or who picked fights with me always left bloody, beaten, and broken. And… I’m not gonna lie,” a look on Launchpad’s face could only be described as one thing… glee, “ _I liked it,_ I liked hurting people; It gave me something to do that didn't involve Vincent,” the large duck stared down at his hands, bruised and stiff from before, “ **I** was the one in control, and once my brother got me into underground fighting… I could let loose.”

“I had one objective: **Destroy.** I did everything in my power to utterly **decimate** everyone that came in contact with me because I had the power to do so… and the money wasn't all too bad either,” Only meer hours, which felt like months since launchpad _genuinely_ laughed and… he felt all the better for it, “Eventually my winning would lead me to having the name ‘Hellfire McQuack’ and the reputation it held, which felt good as well. _Nobody_ would mess with me again because if they did… they wouldn’t leave unscathed.”

“I started feeling better about myself, I started feeling more confident in myself. Things were starting to look like I was going to fall down the same path as Vincent… until I met Samantha. She went to my middle school in eighth grade and we hit it off right away! She had just moved to St Canard which meant… she didn't know a thing about me. Nothing at all,” The light brightened in Launchpad’s eyes, “And that meant _the world to me!_ Someone who didn't know of my temper, someone who didn't see the dark could that loomed over me, all she saw… was _me._ ”

“During the few years of our friendship we went to burger joints, school dances, the park, and whatever else you can think of! Sammy was my best friend and nothing would change that,” that same light that formed dulled a bit, “then Vincent got involved. He would butt in on our hangouts and would always ask me to do things, run errands and such, for him and since he knew I couldn't say no I would always leave Sammy. She tried to convince me multiple times that I didn't need to do whatever he said, but I always came up with some excuse to explain why I did but never told her the truth. Then… he killed her,” the light had gone out, “He killed her because I was too much of a _coward_ to stop him…” his breathing became ragged and jittery, a single tears rolling down his cheek.

“He was right… _I killed her._ ”

“No!” Webby shouted, causing the rest to freeze in shock, “You didn't do anything! Your brother used his power over you to get what he wanted, he is the one that pulled the trigger _not you!_ ” 

“But-”

“But nothing! Your bother molded you into something you were never meant to become, every bad thing that happened was _because_ of him. Don't fault yourself for another’s actions.” Webby was huffing slightly once she finished venting, and everyone around her was surprised by how convicted she looked.

Webby’s word resonated with Launchpad as it echoed what he had told himself for years, but never really believed. He was glad someone felt the same, “Thank you Webby, that means a lot.” Webby nodded in approval as she stood tall next to the triplets.

“Anyway,” Launchpad continued as he composed himself, “after Vincent was arrested I had told my parents everything. They weren't happy about the fighting, but they were appalled by what my brother did to me. Over the next few years, they helped me cope with what happened as well as help me deal with my anger. Dad agreed to change my name to ‘Launchpad’- no middle name either- which was probably one of the nicest things he’d done for me.”

“When it came to my anger we went through a lot of tips and tricks to get it under control and nothing really seemed to be working, the only thing that really helped was punching things. I have a gym set up at home for when I’m feeling overwhelmed or have extra energy on my hands,” Launchpad saw Huey chuckle nervously- he was pretty perceptive at times, “and my mom helped me with making up a mantra that ‘calmed me’ in a way: _‘Smile… People trust you when you smile, a smile makes others happy. They make you feel safe’_. For almost a decade I’ve told myself that, and I always reminded myself before heading off when working for Mr. McDuck. I guess in a way… I developed a personality around it, I was goofy, naive to the unsuspecting, oblivious to things around me, and the one person you could count on the always have a smile on their face no matter the situation. But lately, these last seven months…” soft tears rolled down Launchpad’s cheeks as he looked at the family with warmth, especially the unconscious Donald, “It’s felt more _**real**_ than it's ever been.”

As Launchpad wiped his face, and Mrs. Beakley wrapping up his chest and shoulder, the Study fell into a comfortable silence, “Man… I feel so much lighter after putting that all into the open, and thank you for listening, but… What now?”

“Whaddya mean?” Scrooge asked.

“I’m not the person you hired Mr. McDuck, for the most part, it was just a Mask, so what now? Do you want me to leave, because I wouldn't blame you if you did.”

“Launchpad-”

“You’ve done so much for me the last four years and I couldn't thank you enough-”

“Launch-”

“But if you want me out of your home then-”

_WHACK!_

“Ow!” Launchpad groaned as he rubbed the spot Scrooge whacked him on the head with his cane.

Said cane thumped into the hardwood floor with a slight echo, “Now ye listen here Launchpad, and ye listen good, I understand that ye lied to me- to all of us- but ye had good reason too. Aye get that now,” Scrooge took a moment to sigh, “Aye, better than anyone, should know what it's like to keep secrets because ye believe it's right,” He glared at the large duck before sighing once again, “And after everything, especially letting meself cooldown on the plane ride back… you’re still the man aye hired, just wit’ a little more t’ ye. Ye ain’t leavin’ this mansion Launchpad.”

Launchpad was speechless, he didn't expect this, “T-Thank you sir!”

“Now,” Scrooge turned to the kids, “do ye kiddos have anything to ask Launchpad?”

Dewey blurted out, “You’re not stupid,” before going wide-eyed and covering his beak.

LP laughed at that, “No, I guess I’m not. Don't worry Dewey I understand what you’re getting at,” the young duck sighed, “I’m not a genius, mind you, but I understand more than you think. I don't got an eidetic memory but certain pieces of information or routine really stick with me: facts that interest me, mechanics, map layouts, songs, and the like. Didn't you guys ever wonder how the Sunchaser always looked brand new after every trip?” They looked around, realizing he was right, “My parents were pilots, I know how to fix a plane.”

“And upgrade it,” Scrooge added.

Launchpad blushed, “Yeah, that too.”

“Have you gotten in major trouble?” Huey and Webby asked at the same time, they wanted to get this question out of the way while the mood was good. Luckily Launchpad understood why.

“Well yeah, a few times. I was surprised that Mr. McDuck even hired me, did you ever look me up?” LP asked, getting a shake from Scrooge.

“Working for me can be strenuous at times so I just assume that whoever applies is up for the work.”

“Well if you ever did look me up you’d know that I went to juvie a few times… my anger got me in tight spots more than once. That’s where some of the smaller scars come from, some from fights and others from not so nice people in juvie. My ‘time’ was one of the reasons why I didn't think you’d accept me as your chauffeur, but you did.”

“And I’ve been happy with that decision ever since,” Scrooge let go of an endearing grin as he watched the pilot blush, “But now let's move onto the other elephant in the room: You and Donald, how have you two been together?”

“Um, well me and Donald first met seven months ago at a Hamburger Hippo. He didn't have enough to pay for food for him and the boys, so I offered to pay the rest,” he turned his attention to the triplets, “I don't know if you remember this, but I remember the houseboat exploding in a sense.”

“Oh yeah!” Louie piped up, “Dewey was trying to fix the engine and it blew up in his face!”

“That's because you handed me the wrong tool!”

“It was still funny,” Louie admitted getting a sock to the arm.

“Well anyway,” Launchpad interrupted, “That's when I first met Donald, I spent the last few weeks after that- almost a month- trying to learn more about him. It wasn't until he confronted me at the gym for the ‘stalking’ that I told him the truth, and when I asked him out right then and there he accepted. We’ve been together ever since,” he looked back the boys, “I do know more about the three of you than you think, Donald talked about you guys non stop- even you made him want to pull out feathers he loved you all the same,” The boys stared in awe as they swiveled around to see their unconscious uncle and smiled.

“And there hasn’t been any ‘funny business’ during this time, has there?” Scrooge asked fully knowing what adults do when they believe they are alone.

Launchpad’s face hasn't been this red in a while, “N-No Mr. McDuck t-there hasn’t! I promise! Other than…” The duck felt himself shrink a bit, “kissing and other stuff we haven’t done anything… ‘inappropriate’ here or at my place, I swear! Donny’s only seen me without a shirt for the first time last week,” Launchpad didn't know why he said that last bit, but he felt like he was trying to defend himself in front of someone’s father.

Scrooge, kindly enough, threw the duck a bone, “Relax lad you’re not in trouble, I believe you. Your brother said some unsavory things back at the tomb, so I want to hear it from you: Have ye _ever_ hurt my nephew?”

“No, never.”

“Do ye love my nephew with all yer heart?”

“Yes.”

“Have ye given him all that ye can, 100%?”

“It’s been hard, but I’m getting there. Donald’s been so patient with me I don't even know what I do to deserve him.”

Scrooge smirked when he heard that, “Would you throw down your life to protect him?”

“I would, every time,” Launchpad answered without hesitation.

“Then lad,” Scrooge walked over to the large duck… a placed a hand on his shoulder, “Welcome to the family.”

Launchpad was stunned into silence, he didn't know how to react. Donald had said that Scrooge wouldn't care about their relationship, but he didn't expect the old duck to be _so willing_ to accept him after everything that happened with Vincent. Newfound tears blessed his face as he pulled the rich duck into a bone-crushing hug, “Thank you! Thank you _so much!_ ” Scrooge quacked a few times, which led LP to let him go, a blush of embarrassment to form.

Beakley smiled kindly at the large duck as the kids cheered and ran over to him in the hopes to tackle for a hug, but stopped when they saw the state he was in. He was bandaged from his injuries and still had all of his scars exposed. Launchpad noticed their hesitation, looked down at himself, and took a deep breath, “I’ve been afraid for _far too long,_ I think it’s time for me to let go a bit,” He crouched down and held open his arms, “You’re family, I’m not afraid.”

The kids grinned at the invitation as they tackled Launchpad in a heap of giggles and groans. Mrs. Beakley thought Launchpad reinjured himself when the kids tackled him, only for him to howler with laughter and bounce right back up to his feet- spinning around as he kissed each of them on the tops of their heads.

Launchpad held them close and looked at them fondly when huey spoke, “So… does this mean we can call you Uncle Launchpad?”

Launchpad’s heart soared at the simple question, “W-Well you can… i-if you want.”

“Cool! ‘Uncle Launchpad’ sounds awesome!” “That's means we're your nephews now!” “Ooh! This is so great!”

Launchpad smirked at the positive reception he was getting from the boys and Webby until he noticed that he only had three kids in his arms and not four. He looked over to see Louie avoiding eye contact with him, “Louster, you alright? You’re… You’re okay with this, right?” A small amount of fear was seeping into Launchpad as the aspect of one of his nephews wasn't okay with this.

It was all for naught though, “Don't get me wrong I’m happy that you’re our Uncle now- and knowing you’re the one that's been making Uncle Donald happy is a _really_ big bonus- it's just… a lot to take in at once.”

“Yeah, I would think so,” He looked at his newly established family fondly, “It’s been a pretty emotionally draining day for everyone, especially me.”

“Wait,” Huey piped up, “Does this mean you and Uncle Donald are gay?” He asked, hoping he didn't sound stupid for stating the obvious.

Launchpad was hoping for this question, “Actually you’re only _half right_ with that, Donald is gay. I’m not.”

“But you-”

“Have dated and been attracted to women before I met your uncle, I’m bisexual. It means you-”

“Like both guys… _and girls,_ ” Louie voiced as his eyes widen at some sort of revelation he was having. He was slack-beaked when he looked up at Launchpad… and smiled the widest LP had ever seen.

It didn't take long for Launchpad to figure out why, “Well, I guess your brother and I have a bit more in common than we first thought, “ he turned to Louie, “we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” the young duck nodded enthusiastically. Before anything else could be said, the sound of groaning emanated from Donald as he tried to sit himself up.

“Ugh… Where… Where am-”

“DONALD!” Launchpad had managed to put down the kids and sprinted over to his boyfriend, holding him tight and close, “You're awake! I’m so glad you’re awake!”

“Ack! Lau- Ah! Launchpad, stop!”

The large duck pulled back only to tie Donald into a passionate kiss as if he hadn't seen the duck in ages. Donald wanted nothing more than to melt into the kiss, but when he noticed his family around them when Launchpad pulled back he became increasingly nervous. Launchpad saw this, “Don't worry, they know,” it clicked with Donald with what had transpired earlier at the tomb, but Launchpad kept talking, “We talked it over, amongst other things, and it's fine. Everything’s okay.”

Before Donald had a chance to speak Scrooge beat him to the punch, “Launchpad why don't you take Donald up to his room and rest up, I think we all need some rest after a day like today.”

In an instant, Launchpad scooped Donald up and strolled off to his room. Once he got there he managed to open and closed the door before setting Donald down into the bed, pulling the covers over him.

“Launchpad-” Donald started to say but was completely cut off when LP pulled him into another hug.

“I’m sorry… I’m _s-so sorry. **Please**_ don't hate. You can yell, you can rant, just… don't say you hate me… _please…_ ”

Donald was still a little groggy, but that didn't stop him from tearing up hearing his boyfriend practically **beg him** not to hate him, “LP… Can I ask one thing?”

“Yeah…”

“Dewey… did you-”

“No, never. It was a rock climbing accident- I love him and the others too much to even think about doing something like that.” Relief spread through Donald like a wildfire, almost collapsing into Launchpad. After hearing everything Vincent said it cause Donald to cast doubt… he should’ve known better, “I’ll tell you more in the morning, let's just sleep now okay?”

“Okay,” Donald mumbled before crashing into bed, Launchpad laying beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes!!! The family's on good grounds, nobody's being exiled! And fuck Vincent, really! I wrote him, but even I hate him!
> 
> So what did you guys think? That was something, huh? 
> 
> Also if you couldn't tell I'm still trying to find a balance in how I write Scrooge's dialogue 'cause I don't want it to be impossible to read, but I don't want it to sound too normal- I have, like, no experience in writing accents so please tell me how I'm doing! (If you have any pointers I would also love to hear them, anything to make your reading experience all the better!)
> 
> Please, please, please comment! I always enjoy reading what you guys have to say and it's such a wonderful thing to hear your thoughts- they're always so amazing! Thank you all so much!
> 
> I'll do my best to finish up chapter 16, so I can get right into 17 before college work drowns me (It's only the first week for me, but you never know :) ) Until next time!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like yay me, I almost got Chapter 17 done! That's means I get to give you guys this, yesss!!!
> 
> I really do hope you enjoy this chapter: shoutout to _jolly_ranchers_girl_ for leaving such wonderful comments- I love everyone's comments, and when I see this user's it just makes me jump in my seat! They were the first one to comment on this story and I'm _so glad_ they keep coming back- all of you really!
> 
> They also have a wonderful Ducktales story- _A Shoulder to Lean on_ \- and though it only has two chapters up, at the moment, it's so good! Go check that out after this if you haven't already! It's so sweet!
> 
> I don’t do shoutouts often, or at all since this is my first time, but this user- along with others- hold a special place in my Writer’s Heart, but thank you all really!
> 
> There's a song in here, a nerdy song: [ My Hero Academia Opening 2 - Peace Sign; By Natewantstobattle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxntwKWe9to) Start playing at "Scrooge had gone to fetch..."
> 
> I just wanted to keep this short and sweet let's get into it, you see mistakes tell me and I'll fix them!

Sunlight peeked through the curtains as a new day washed over the McDuck household. Said sunlight burned into the face of a rather large lump in the king-sized bed.

As Launchpad tried to block out the sun with the blanket made of Egyptian cotton he realized how comfortable his bed was before snuggling in further…

Along with the second, much smaller lump which he had an arm draped over. Launchpad was careful not to crush the duck’s side where he had been shot.

Remembering _why_ Donald had been shot had LP dragging his boyfriend closer to his own body, keeping him close. What Vincent did burned a pit in Launchpad’s stomach and everything he had done to try to tear him away from his second family had the duck growling lowly. It worked for the most part, but Launchpad was lucky enough to have people that didn't immediately try to throw him off the plane once it was en route home. After explaining everything to Scrooge, Beakley, and the kids things simmered down as everyone had some time to process it all, and once they did they accepted him with open arms.

The large duck was worried that Donald might’ve believed the lies Vincent told about him hurting Dewey, but the worrying was all for naught as once he explained what happened Donald accepted it with no backlash.

They had awoken earlier that morning, which gave Launchpad plenty of time to tell Donald everything that he told the rest of the family, and other than furious anger- not directed at him- the smaller duck clung to LP for dear life. Since then they just laid in bed recovering from the past day's event and the revelation earlier this morning hoping not to be disturbed.

_Knock, Knock, Knock!_

Which obviously wasn't going to happen.

_Knock, Knock, Knock!_

“Ugh… Launchpad, the door…”

“Maybe they'll go away if we don't move,” Launchpad mumbled.

_Knock, Knock, Knock!_

“Or not.” Launchpad sighed for a moment before sitting up, “Door’s open!” Slowly the bedroom door creaked open revealing the green-clad triplet with his back facing them, “Oh, Louie, good morning, what is it champ?” Launchpad how nervous the young duck’s body language was and he couldn't imagine why.

“Um… you’re not… ‘busy’, are you?”

Launchpad’s face began to heat up as Donald threw the covers over his head and mumbled “kill me now” as LP cleared his throat, “Louie we weren't… no, we're not ‘busy’ and we're decent if that's what you’re worried about also,” Launchpad mention as he threw on a black muscle shirt just as the kid walked in.

Louie turned to face him, and with a sigh of relief from his part, he went back to looking nervous, “Well… I wanted to come by because I wanted to… talk.”

It only took a second before Launchpad realized what his nephew was talking about, “Yeah, no problem, I’ll meet you at your room okay? I just gotta put on some pants before heading over.” Louie nodded, less nervous than he was before, before heading out the room.

As Launchpad threw the covers off and found his cargos sitting on the floor Donald sat up in the bed looking quite confused, “What did Louie want to talk about?”

“Something I said while you were unconscious hit home with him, so he wanted to talk to understand it better,” Launchpad deflected as he told Donald the partial truth. He wasn't quite sure exactly what to tell his boyfriend, but what he knew was that this wasn't his revelation to tell. Donald accepted his answer, albeit giving LP a weird look, before rolling over and going back to sleep.

Once Launchpad got ready he left the room and immediately had a small body slam into him. Knocking him on his behind he groaned, “Aww… What a wake-up call.”

“S-Sorry about that,” Webby proclaimed, “I didn't see you coming out.”

Launchpad looked at the young girl and smile, “‘S okay Webby, I’m a pretty big dude so imma pretty big target,” LP stood back up and brushed himself off, “You in a rush?”

“Kinda, Granny and I were gonna go out for a bit and get some things for me, I need new clothes amongst other stuff.”

“Is there anything you really want?” Launchpad asked, curious what the young duck like already having some sort of sense of that.

“Well, there is these combat boot that I really want but Granny won't get them for me, they’re pretty expensive.”

“How much?”

Webby dug her heel into the ground, “$150… they’re really nice boots and they’re great for climbing and have awesome traction and-” Webby stopped briefly as she watched Launchpad dig into his pocket, “What are you doing?”

Launchpad’s answer was showing a bunch of bills in front of the duck, “Here, take it.”

“W-What?” Webby froze as he didn't know what to do while Launchpad tried to hand her a bunch of money, “Why?”

“Because I want you to have those boots, I won’t be able to go out and eat for a while but it’ll be worth it,” He continued to offer the money, “It’s okay, you can take it.”

The young duck gingerly took the money and counted it… $170, “This is-”

“Gotta account for tax,” His smile bloomed as he looked at his honorary niece, “You deserve it.”

Tears welled up in Webby’s eyes and she jumped up and squealed in his arms, “Thank you, Thank you, _Thank you_ Uncle Launchpad!” She cheered as she hopped back to the ground and bolted off.

LP’s heart grew in size hearing Webby call him “Uncle Launchpad” and it still shook him to the core as it wasn't something he was completely used to yet, but he would eventually. As the pitter patter of Webby’s footsteps faded Launchpad smirked to himself as he made his way down to the triplets’ room. He gently knocked, _“It’s open…”_ Launchpad walked in to see the youngest triplet sitting on his bed, looking out the window, “Hey buddy, you alright?”

He sighed, “Yeah, I'm just happy you came.”

“Well of course kiddo,” he sat next to Louie draping his arm around him, “You probably got a lot bouncing around that head of yours, so where do you want to start?”

“I guess…” he twiddled his thumbs, “...we can start where we left off yesterday.”

“About your crushes?” Louie nodded, “And am I right to assume their both different sexes?” Again, Louie nodded, “And you don't know how to feel about that.”

“It's just… confusing. I mean I like both of them and they’re both really cute and I’m just… there, acting like an idiot,” The young duck go even more riled up, “i don't understand, is there something wrong with me? I know you said that you feel the same way, but…” Louie looked up at Launchpad with the most pained an confused face the large fowl had ever seen, “Is it weird to feel this way?”

Launchpad understood where the young duck was coming from, he had gone through the same thing after Vincent was arrested, “Okay, I’m going to tell you straight up: there’s nothing wrong with you, me, or anyone else who feels the same way. There’s no real right or wrong answer when it comes to who you find attractive, but don’t ever doubt yourself. I was in a limbo after Vincent was put away and these feeling really started to grow. Didn’t really know what to do with myself; I never really learned how to properly flirt with anyone, and with my experiences, it made that aspect even harder.”

“ _But_ unlike me, you have a support system you can fall back on: Your… _Our_ family. You’re perfectly normal with how you feel, so don't let anyone else try to dictate who you should or shouldn’t be attracted to.”

“And if others try?” Louie asked nervously.

“Fuck’em,” Louie was stunned by LP’s use of language, “Fuck any of those morons who try to tell you that. Being bisexual isn't you ‘trying to get attention’ or ‘wanting everyone you see’, everything you like is you so if you find yourself gravitating to one side or the other that's perfectly normal. Being Bi isn't a 50/50 split, it all revolves around you- so don't let anyone else tell you otherwise, okay?” Louie soaked in everything that Launchpad said with gusto. Everything Launchpad said made sense to him and he was glad to have someone to _actually_ talk about this. Launchpad had one more thing to say, “and when it comes to coming out… do whatever feels comfortable to you. You know everyone here will be cool with it, so you can officially tell them once you think you got every figured out- for the most part- on your end, alright?”

“Yeah, okay Uncle Launchpad. Thanks,” the duck praised as he hugged LP tight, the large duck returning the hug.

Launchpad pulled back for a moment to look at Louie, “And don't tell your uncle about me cursing earlier, okay? He’ll be on my tail feathers if he found out I used that kind of language in front of you.”

“Heh, alight Uncle LP, no problem.”

“Cool, now… why don't you tell you new Uncle about these people you fancy?” At this Louie’s face started heating up.

_____

After Louie and Launchpad talked for a bit, and Louie grew more comfortable with himself, LP left the young duck to his own accord, telling him to come get him if he’s ever feeling hungry.

Launchpad took this time to walk around the mansion as he never stayed here long enough to actually explore his surroundings. The Manor had a lot of empty room and vacant hallways, which had Launchpad think about how lonely it must've been before Donald and the triplets showed up. Throughout his exploration he found some paintings of Scrooge in different outfits be he himself never looked any different, and some of the paintings looked older than others.

It had Launchpad wondering how old Scrooge _really_ was.

Luckily he would have a chance to ask as he left a room and Scrooge was waiting for him, “Ah, Launchpad, there ye are!” 

“Gah! Mr. McDee!” Launchpad clutched his chest, “Don't do that!”

“Sorry, sorry, aye didn't mean to scare ye, just lookin’ to talk,” Scrooge turned away and began walking down the hall, “Come along now, we have some things to discuss.” Launchpad said nothing else as he followed Scrooge all the way back to his office, and as McDuck sat down behind his desk he gestured for Launchpad to sit. He did.

“So, we should probably go over your pay rate as the subject of your job description had hanged as of late.”

Launchpad cocked his head, “Whaddya mean Mr. McDee?”

“First off,” Scrooge began, “When you’re off duty call me Uncle Scrooge, we're family now.”

LP beamed, “O-Of course… Uncle Scrooge,” the words felt foreign but… nice at the same time.

“Now with that out of the way that is something’ that changes with yer job: Not only are ye me personal driver and pilot ye are now my ‘nephew’ in a sense,” The elder duck winked, which had Launchpad glowing with embarrassment, “which means ye have more at stake, specifically Donald. I’ll be raising yer pay as the addition of ‘Bodyguard’ is added. Now I’m not askin’ ye to keep him from danger- lord knows that's impossible for this family- but I want ye to do ye best to keep him safe, that’s the most important point for both you and me, understand?”

“Of course Mr- Uncle Scrooge, I’ll do my best… for Donald.”

“Good, good, now I’m not sayin’ that yer just his bodyguard but his the main one- other than me of course. Now, on the subject of Donald,” Scrooge grew more serious, “I know that I’ve already asked ye if ye loved Donald, so I’m not questionin’ that, but there is something’ I want to tell ye…” Tension filled the air and Launchpad grew nervous of what Scrooge might say.

It was all for naught when a smile bloomed on McDuck’s face, “Ye have my permission.”

Launchpad blinked, “What?”

“Fer askin’ fer Donald’s hand, ye have my permission.”

It took a few moments for it to click with Launchpad what Scrooge was trying to tell him, his face was burning up at this point, “W-What? I n-never… I wasn't… That hadn’t… I haven't even discussed something like that with Donald- It’s only been six months!”

“Love knows no time, if it takes six months or if it takes six years it doesn't matter. The moment you fall in love you’ll know, remember that.”

“O-Of course Uncle Scrooge!”

“Good! Now I believe that Beakley should be back with Webbigail, so go see if she needs some help.”

“Sure, no problem!” Launchpad cheered before getting up and leaving the office.

Making his way to the foyer he ran into Louie who said he was feeling peckish, Launchpad beamed at the chance to cook for his, official, nephew. He was excited to cook for any of them in general because he's never really had the chance to do so.

As Louie trailed behind him and they made it to the kitchen Launchpad spotted Mrs, Beakley, “Hey Mrs. B!”

“Oh, Launchpad, Louie, good to see the two of you,” she greeted while putting some can away, “and Launchpad I want to personally thank you, since Webby probably already did, for giving her the money for those boots she wanted. She's wanted those for a while now and I've just never had the funds to pay for them.”

“Not a problem B, it was my pleasure! Put a dent in my wallet,” he heard the squeals of joy in the distant, “but seeing her happy was worth it. Anyway,” Launchpad changed topics, mulling over what was in the fridge, “Do we have ground turkey and hamburger buns?”

“Yes we do, why?”

“Perfect!” He proclaimed as grabbed at that he needed before shutting the fridge with his foot and walking outside to the backyard grill.

Barkley, curious, followed Launchpad out as he made it to the outside grill and laid out the ingredients- and supplies- he grabbed earlier on the island next to it. The grill roared to life as he began preparing the ground turkey into patties. The housekeeper was impressed by the speed and efficiency that Launchpad worked at as he started throwing a few patties on the grill.

Scrooge had gone to fetch Donald, pushing him into the backyard in a wheelchair, as the kids were throwing around a frisbee. Scrooge, as well as everyone else, noticed that music started playing while Launchpad was cooking on the grill, he started moving along with the song:

“ _One day I set my eyes up to the sky;_ ”

“ _And like a plane my dreams were passing by;_ ”

“ _And I awoke to tears that had filled my eyes;_ ”

“ _I need to spread my wings out and fly._ ”

It wasn't a song that any of them had heard before, but from the sound of it, Launchpad had known it by heart. The grill almost seemed in tune with him as the fire rose and fell while he flipped burgers:

“ _I lie awake at night with these memories;_ ”

“ _Of feeling powerless and they're haunting me;_ ”

“ _I'm always reaching out for this destiny;_ ”

“ _To make it happen that's all on me!_ ”

The kids noticed the slight dip in his smile as he continued, so they tried to come up with a way to cheer him up and get his attention:

“ _Cruel fate sets in motion;_ ”

“ _And no one else knows why;_ ”

“ _Waiting for the day to come when will it show up;_ ”

“ _Claiming what's before my eyes!_ ”

While he had his back to them Dewey decided to throw the frisbee to try to see if it could knock Launchpad out of his funk, but what happened he didn't expect:

“ _With every issue I gotta break through;_ ”

“ _Or the moment might just pass;_ ”

“ _They all told me I can't, they were laughing-_ ”

He caught the frisbee without even looking, then turned to the kids with the widest smile they had ever seen:

“ _Well look who's laughing now…_ ”

Set set the burger he had just finished off to the side and began chasing around the kids. They were all laughing and huffing as they tried, to no avail, to avoid the grasp of their new uncle all the while Donald looked on with glee:

“ _Now I can feel the fire burning deep within me;_ ”

“ _I'll be the hero and no one can stop me;_ ”

“ _Loudly I will scream it from the top of my lungs!_ ”

“ _You've got those tired eyes from crying every moment;_ ”

“ _You cannot hide it, someone's gonna notice;_ ”

“ _I'll be your hero, no one's gonna hurt you again!_ ”

As the song wound down everyone was laughing with joy as Launchpad held the kid close to him, placing kisses on top of all of their heads:

“ _Gonna raise my hand with a peace sign,_ ”

“ _Our story will last forever!_ ”

Launchpad let go of all of the kids as he handed back the frisbee, “You know it's rude to toss things at people when they aren't paying attention.”

“But you caught it!”

“If I was anybody else I probably wouldn't have- there are better ways to get my attention,” The kids blushed in embarrassment as Launchpad gets back up and gathers to food, “but that doesn't matter now: Food’s ready!” He announced as everyone came around the outside table as Launchpad served everyone. Everyone put whatever they wanted on the burgers but once they all took their bites immediately were hit a mouthful of flavor, it was amazing!

It rivaled Beakley’s cooking and even she was impressed by what she was tasting, Scrooge voiced his thoughts, “Well, this wasn't what aye was expecting at all! Launchpad aye am thoroughly impressed by this meal, well done!”

“Ah gee, thanks Uncle Scrooge! It was no trouble really, Mrs. B taught me a few things and the rest kinda… clicked. Pretty simple really.”

“Well doesn't matter, this is still amazing!” Launchpad blushed. As they continued to eat: the kids chatting up and the adults just enjoying the outside air. As the lunch wound down Scrooge stood up, “Well Launchpad aye would like to thank ye once again for this wonderful meal and aye believe aye speak for all of us when aye say that we would something like this almost all the time!”

“Well I don't know how that would work out, I’m not always here so it’d be pretty hard for me to do this from time to time.”

“Who said you wouldn't be here?” Scrooge asked, confusing the large fowl, “Ye be datin’ my nephew, so that means you'll always have a place here- hell, ye wouldn’ even need to stay at that other home of ours, I’d make getting to the company easier with you already here.”

“Yeah, It’d be awesome to have you around more Uncle Launchpad!” Dewey proclaimed, getting modded and murmurs of agreement from his brother and Webby.

“Well… I can't just abandon where I live now, it was first home when I came out to Duckburg… It’s home,” while the kids were a little saddened by this they understood where he was coming from.

Scrooge, however, had planned for this, “Aye had a feelin’ you’d be sayin’ somethin’ like that, so earlier today aye brought yer hangar.”

“You… what?”

“Aye bought it, that way ye wouldn't have to give it up since aye own it now and since ye work for me there isn't any issue.”

“You… you did that… for me?”

“Aye, you’re a part of this family and aye think it’s safe to say that we would all enjoy it if ye were around more.”

“I… I don't…” Launchpad was almost at a loss of words before he came barrelling around the table and pulling Scrooge into a huge bear hug, “Thank you Uncle Scrooge, thank you!”

“Yer welcome lad,” he strained out as Launchpad went to put him down, “Now with that out of th’ way why don't we talk about earlier: Yer singin’, where did ye learn to sound like that?”

At the Launchpad grew red, “Well, I’ve kinda always been able to sing. It’s what I do at my part-time job… I was just too embarrassed to tell you when the kids snuck in that night.”

“Well it was a wonderful surprise! And the song what was it? Aye don’ think I’ve ever heard it before.”

Launchpad’s face grew a deeper crimson, “I-It’s called ‘Peace Sign’ and, uh… it’s kinda the English cover of an anime opening,” he played with the feathers on his neck, “Cartoons and stuff like that I’ve always liked and I never really grew out of it if you couldn't tell… I’ve always found them comforting.”

“Well, either way, I’ll enjoy hearin’ more from ye in the future; You’ve got an amazing gift and it’d be a shame to waste it!”

Launchpad was practically a tomato at this point, much to the amusement of everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how was that? I nice little breather from everything that happened the last two chapters.
> 
> And Louie! The green boy! He's still a bit confused right now, but at least he knows if ever needs to talk he has Launchpad :)
> 
> What did you guys think? Comment below your thoughts and questions, I love to read/answer them! And I read every comment you guys post, I may not comment on each one but _I do_ read every single one of them! Thank you all so much!
> 
> See you all the next time I post! (Which, hopefully, should be soon if Writer's block doesn't hate me these next few chapters... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have good news and bad news...
> 
> Good news: I was able to get this chapter out to you peoples and so many people have seen this story that I find it truly amazing!
> 
> Bad news: From the way everything is laid out for me while writing this story... I can count the number of chapters left on one hand.
> 
> I know, I know! It's _tragic!_
> 
> I've had such a blast writing this story for all of you, and I really want to thank you all for sticking around! But the story isn't over yet! We still got things to handle, mainly Vincent.
> 
> But we will get to him soon... for now, enjoy the growth of our loveable pilot Launchpad!

It had been a week since the family’s run-in with Launchpad’s estranged brother Vincent, and so far everything’s been going smoothly for all of them. Ever since everything was placed out in the open Launchpad started to change, but in a nice way: He was still self-conscious about how he looked he became laxer with the amount of feathers he was showing- wearing more muscle shirts and leaving his jacket off more often. He started smirking more which irritated the hell out of Scrooge, but in a playful way, and he expressed how he felt with everyone a lot more.

He had, occasionally, a bout of frustration, but Donald and the kids always found a way to calm him down- their very presence was enough to do it at times.

And though he hated to admit it, Launchpad started cursing more under his breath which didn't really make sense to him. Donald told him it was probably because he was holding it in for so long that it’s just coming out now in small spurts. Launchpad didn't really like cursing, especially in front of the kids, but he had to give his boyfriend the point that he did start to feel better the more he did it.

Overall the person Launchpad became was just… _more real_ than he’s ever been, and he’s been better off because of it.

The wounds he obtained during the encounter, unfortunately, developed into more scars but this time when he spotted the knife wound in the mirror it didn't evoke sadness or fear: it summoned determination, the determination to protect what was his. Donald, the kids, his new family, all of it. He wasn't going to lose them.

_____

Launchpad woke up exactly how he did every day for the past week: happy.

He was used to getting up early in the morning to get dressed and drive around Scrooge, but that didn't mean Donald had to like it. Said duck groaned as Launchpad shuffled out of bed but immediately relaxed as he felt a quick peck on his cheek as he burrowed further into the large warm spot on the bed.

Launchpad stared for a few more seconds before smiling and heading over to the dresser. He spotted himself in the body mirror Donald had: ruffled orange hair, scars on display, and checkered red boxers. Seeing the damage didn't set him on edge anymore, they marked a challenge. A challenge he was willing to fight for. A challenge that tried to tell him that he couldn't be normal, that he couldn't keep himself in check, that what he had couldn't last.

And every time he saw the challenge he always said the same thing, “Fuck off…”

In the week since the tomb incident, while there was still some adjustments along the way, the Duck family integrated Launchpad with ease. He was the kids’ new Uncle and Scrooge’s new nephew and everything to everyone just felt _right._ Just as how the triplets accepted Webby as their sister they didn't treat Launchpad any different… just more affectionately.

He helped the kids with homework, assisted Beakley around the Manor, drove Scrooge around as usual, and- now- took his time to cuddle with Donald whenever he could. This was his life now… and he loved every second of it!

Once he finished changing, throwing on a grey collared long sleeve and black jeans, he brushed his hair and threw on his baseball cap before heading out of the room. The mansion was just as lively as ever with the children running about, but there was an addition to their ranks today, “Oh! Lena, it’s good to see you!”

The teen turned around, stopping in her tracks, and looked up at the large duck, “Mr. McQuack… hey…” Lena wasn't really sure how to address Launchpad as she knew that he was Scrooge’s chauffeur, but with Webby telling her about his status as the boys’ uncle’s boyfriend it left her in a bit of a tough spot.

“Oh come on, Mr. McQuack is my father, call me Launchpad!”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! So what are you up to?”

“Eh… thought I’d take a look around, see what’s around.” Lena was fiddling with her amulet as it glowed just ever so slightly.

“Alrighty then! Just don't go anywhere you not supposed to, okay?” He rested a hand on her shoulder as he eyed her necklace, somewhat bothered by it, “Scrooge doesn’t like it when people mess with his stuff,” his tone a tad serious.

“Y-Yeah, no problem,” Lena didn't know what it was but something about the air around Launchpad, just for a moment, grew cold and she felt almost… obliged to listen to him.

And just as quickly as the air grew cold it faded, “Great!” Launchpad threw his smile back on, “Stay out of trouble!” He said before strutting off.

Launchpad walked into the dining room where Scrooge was reading the newspaper and sipping on his favorite nutmeg tea, “Mornin’ Mr. McDee!”

The older duck set the paper down and smiled and the large duck, “Ah, Launchpad, good mornin’,” He eyed the duck’s appearance for a moment, “No jacket?”

“Nah! I thought I’d leave it today.”

“That wouldn't have anything to do with th’ coffee ye split on it the other day, would it?” Scrooge held a smug look as he watched his chauffeur squirm a bit.

“Um… No?” Launchpad said unconvincingly.

“Relax lad yer fine, Beakley will have it washed and ready for you once you get back.”

“Oh good,” the duck sighed. Coffee stains were always the worst for Launchpad to deal with, so he was glad Beakley was helping him out, “Anyway, Other than the office, are you heading anywhere else today?”

“Aye have a few things t’ do around town, but it shouldn't take too long. Have you eaten yet?”

“Nope, just woke up,” upon him saying this Mrs. Beakley came from behind and placed a plate of food- hash browns, sausage, and waffles- in front of him, “Aw, thanks B!”

“A pleasure Launchpad, and do be careful you just got that shirt so I would hate for it to get ruined,” the large fowl’s blush deepened.

“Y-Yeah, no problem,” He stuttered out before digging in. The food was fantastic as usual and as he continued to eat the kids popped in once in a while, grabbing an apple or chasing after one another. Launchpad loved every second of it.

Once he finished eating, Scrooge stood up, “Alright, are ye ready to get goin’?”

“Yep, lead the way Mr. McDee!”

_____

The day was pretty lax with Launchpad driving Scrooge to McDuck Enterprises and after he was finished there he had LP drive around so he could get the things done he needed to do around town. It was mundane, but mundane wasn't always a bad thing.

Throughout the driving for the last few hours Launchpad had found himself humming a few songs that were rattling around in his head, and Scrooge caught onto that so he had asked the larger duck to sing some things and he obliged without hesitation. He stuck to mostly normal “popular” songs:

“ _Strangers in the night, exchanging glances_ ”

“ _Wondering in the night; what were the chances?_ ”

“ _We’d be sharing love once the night was through!_ ”

SInatra had been one of Scrooge’s favorite as the songs were always beautifully written and so filled with emotion, Launchpad delivered that in spades:

“ _Something in your eyes was so inviting;_ ”

“ _Something in your smile was so exciting;_ ”

“ _Something in my heart told I must have **you!**_ ”

All Launchpad had was the background music, no lyrics, so it amazed Scrooge how accurately his driver was singing along. He had many talents apparently:

“ _Strangers in the night, two lonely people;_ ”

“ _We were strangers in the night;_ ”

“ _Up to the moment when we said our first hello, little did we know;_ ”

“ _Love was just a glance away, a warm embracing dance away-_ ”

“ _And ever since that night, we’ve been together;_ ”

“ _Lovers at first sight, in love forever;_ ”

“ _It turned out so right for strangers in the night!_ ”

Launchpad continued to sing, filling the limo with his powerful baritone voice it almost lulled Scrooge to sleep, even with the peak long notes- Scrooge held on strong though as he still had a few places to get to so he couldn't be drifting off and taking a nap.

After finishing up with his business he stopped by a coffee shop and got him and Launchpad some drinks, “Ye know Launchpad,” he began as he shuffled back into the limo, “I’m glad to see ye being more of yerself lately, it’s nice.”

“Well… it’s nice to have a family.”

“But ye still have yer own, don’t you? Vin… Yer brother said that-”

“He hurt them to keep them from telling me he was out,” Launchpad cut Scrooge off with the ice in his voice, “He said he didn't kill them, but I’m not so sure if he was telling the truth. Even if he was…” He set his coffee down and gripped the steering wheel, “I haven't talked to them in years. I have no way of knowing whether or not if they are okay unless I visit them.”

“Then why don't you?” Scrooge had been laxer with Launchpad on the job now since he was family, so he was perfectly okay with giving him time off to see his parents and sister.

“If I leave Vincent will have me on my own,” he turned around to look at Scrooge, a tremble in his eyes, “And you guys without me, vulnerable to him. I can't let that happen… After all, that’s why you made me a bodyguard,” his smile resurfaced full force, “I protect those close, always.”

Scrooge wasn't really sure what to say, but the look in Launchpad’s eyes was all he needed, “Donald picked a good one, yer a good man McQuack.”

“Always Mr. McDee… always.”

_____

The room was dark, thick curtains we're blocking any and all sunlight from flooding in.

Donald hated the sun, even more so when he was sleeping so he was glad that the curtains were very good at blocking out the blinding atrocity.

It had Donald smile when he heard the bedroom door open and knew exactly who walked in: loud footsteps and the slight smell of engine oil and cherries.

The large mass scooted into bed and wrapped his arm around Donald’s midsection, pulling him close. Donald nuzzled in further into Launchpad’s chest and listened to the fowl’s breathing. Ever so soothing.

His boyfriend’s hand grazed over his body, sending shivers down his spine, and only when his hand guided down further than it ever had did the ex-sailor speak, “LP?”

“Hmm?”

“Is there something you want to talk about?”

“No… just something I want to give you,” Launchpad shifted around until he hovered above Donald, surprising the smaller duck. Donald wasn't really sure what was happening, but seeing the look in Launchpad’s eyes- not lust, but warmth and compassion- it stirred things in Donald.

Things that he liked.

Launchpad took off his cap and slid his way under the covers, hovering near Donald’s lower half, “LP, you don't have to anything if you don't want to.”

“I know, but I _do_ want to. All I need is the go ahead.”

Launchpad never pushed, never proceeded without reason, never did anything without asking.

Donald’s heart bloomed, “Yes, go ahead.”

That’s all Launchpad needed to hear before disappearing under the covers…

...and a brand new heat bloomed in Donald as he gasped and grabbed a pillow. This was going to be a doozy for him.

_____

Launchpad didn't want to leave, he really didn't, but he had to go back and clean up his hangar. The next day was his day off so he all day to get the place back into shape.

He had only stayed there a few days in the last week, so he just wanted to see the inside of his home… but he didn't want to leave Donald.

He knew Donald was loud, his bouts of anger were proof of that, but this was the kind of loud Launchpad had never heard from the ex-sailor.

He liked it. _A lot._

It was really a “spur of the moment” kind of event that he and Donald shared, but it was all LP could really give him with how everything was right now. He just wasn't ready for anything more.

To say this was his first time doing something like this would be a lie, but to say this was the first time he enjoyed doing something like this… that, that was nothing but truth. He did his best to clean up any excess, so hopefully Mrs. Beakley wouldn't notice.

That would _really_ kill him.

As he pulled the covers over the now exhausted Donald he placed a kiss on his forehead, “ _I’ll see you tomorrow alright?_ ” He whispered, “ _Just gotta clean up and get some stuff from my place then I’ll be back, okay?_ ”

“Hmm… okay… love you…”

“Heh, I love you too,” Launchpad voiced as he grabbed his cap and jacket before quietly leaving the room.

Tomorrow was going to be a good day, he knew it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how was that, things got a little spicy near at the end. But good for Launchpad, he's learning to be more comfortable with himself! 
> 
> So what did you guys think? Tell me what your thoughts in the comments below- like I've said a million times (and you're all probably tired of me saying it)- I love reading what you guys have to say and think!
> 
> Edit: I’m a little bit of. Dunce because I don’t know why i didn’t realize that the triplets were ten and not twelve... i just wasn’t sure. But i dont really want to go back to change that little detail, so lets just say the the Spear of Selene incident/the triplets hatching just happened two years earlier, Scrooge and Donald not talking for those twelve years- everything else should still remain the same, the kids are just a little older than their canon counterparts!
> 
> See you, hopefully, soon!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Beginnings have an End...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge update dump!
> 
> And as you can see these are the final chapters of this story but do not cry... I think you'll like how this ends ;)
> 
> There won't be any endnotes until the final chapter, and trust me when I say that you'll want to read 'til the end.
> 
> See any mistake, tell me, and I'll fix them!

The comfort of darkness covered Launchpad comfortably as his alarm went off on his phone, waking him up as he had to go into work even though it was Sunday. Scrooge didn't know he would’ve needed him until he got called into the office.

Always the routine.

Though it was thrown off a bit since now he stayed at the Manor more often but he did enjoy the small moment when he slept back at his first home.

But it didn't really feel the same. He felt… cold. He felt… hollow.

He still loved his hangar, but without the family, it just didn't have the same feel as the mansion did. And after what happened with Donald… he was heating up just thinking about it.

It had been the first time he had ever done something like that, but… it was different. A good different. A _really good_ different, and it was a really good different because… this time it was _his choice._

As he brought his clothes over to his shower he saw the result of him going back on these thoughts, and it flooded his face with red, “Welp… cold shower it is then.”

As the water beat against his back he was careful when cleaning his scars as one wouldn't want any accidents while trying to get ready, but as he washed up he delved into his thoughts: About him and Donald, about his future, about the next step. He started thinking about the small box tucked away in his dresser drawer and it brought a smile to his face.

Everything was right, so he really only had one thought, _‘Soon.’_

He shut off the water and stepped out, drying himself off as he made his way off to his clothes. He slipped on his boxers and was about to change…

...When a hand rested on his shoulder, “Why don't I take those off your hands?”

_____

Scrooge was upset, no, he was _**furious!**_

WHen the duck checked his pocket watch- which he didn't carry often but enjoyed it when he did- it read 8:23, Launchpad was late. Really late. 

It was completely unlike the duck and it had Scrooge equally worried and frustrated. Launchpad had insisted on staying at the hangar that night and since he was an adult he couldn't force Launchpad to stay, it was just annoying that it seemed that the large fowl might’ve slept through his alarm.

It wasn't until Scrooge saw the Limo pull up that he straightened out his clothes as he stood up, “And where in bloody hell have you’ve been?!”

“Sorry Mr. McDee, my alarm didn't go off and traffic was _brutal_ on the way over here!” Launchpad called out from inside the limo, not making any attempt to get out. His voice was a little raspy.

Scrooge took note of this as he shook his head in irritation and jumped into the back, “Feelin’ alright lad? Ye don't sound like yourself.”

“I’m fine just a bit of a sore throat is all,” Launchpad’s voice was muffled by the window divider, which was strange since he didn't have that up since he loved to talk to Scrooge, even when Scrooge didn't really like him back then.

“Okay, if ye say so.”

Launchpad started the limo back up and began driving. It was a comfortable drive.

It was unnerving to Scrooge, he didn't like it.

They drove through the streets of Duckburg with such ease that it was almost like the limo was gliding on ice. It felt calculated, planned, and most of all… rehearsed. Launchpad had driven this route many times over, but he never made any onedrive feel the same.

What perturbed Scrooge, even more, was when they drove by McDuck Enterprises, “Um Launchpad, where are ye goin’?”

“I’d thought we’d drive around for a bit more. I’m guessing you don't want to go to the office, right? You never really do Mr. McDuck.” His voice was smooth, through a sore throat, calming and warm.

Sweat beaded down Scrooge’s neck, “Launchpad how many time do aye have to tell ye, we're family ye don't have to call me that anymore, call me Uncle Scrooge.”

“Oh… right, of course. No problem Uncle Scrooge, sorry, I just forget sometimes,” his jovial tone, very much like Launchpad, sounded from the driver side of the window as he chuckled.

Scrooge’s grip on his cane tightened, “From _aye remember_ aye said that ye can call me Uncle Scrooge or just Scrooge… when yer’re **not** on duty,” the limo slowly came to a stop a few minutes after Scrooge had pointed that out and once it finally stopped Launchpad stretched.

“Even after everything,” his voice grew darker, “you still accepted him. That tells me how _idiotic_ you are McDuck,” the window rolled down to fully reveal the buzzed orange hair, “I really thought you were smarter than that.”

“ _Vincent,_ ” Scrooge spat out as the large duck pivoted his head and gave a sinister smirk.

“You like my impression of my brother? His voice isn't hard to mimic and I have to say it was kinda fun to play him, even for a bit,” the doors locked and the moment Scrooge tried to move Vincent pulled out his gun and trained it on the old duck, “I wouldn't do that if I were you… if you ever want to see your family again that is.”

“What do ye want?” Scrooge was calm considering the situation, he knew Vincent now so he didn't want to do anything drastic.

“What do I want? That’s easy: my brother. What I was _really_ counting on was that after you found out what a cheat and liar he was that you would throw him out of your life and when I asked you would just give him up. _But,_ ” Vincent gritted his teeth as he continued to smile, “it seems you managed to reconcile with him and most likely won’t give him up at the expense of your own life, so I came up with a better solution. See, I knew where Launchpad lived- after all, I stole the limo- but he was never home so I couldn't do anything, but when he returned yesterday I took my chance. Since he drives you around I thought it best to take _you_ instead and at that point, Lawrence will come to me willingly to keep you safe,” his laugh was empty and cold, “He will be mine once again and after I use him for a bit I’ll end him… but it’ll be _nice and slow._ ”

“Yer sick… what kind of a person does that to someone, especially their _own blood?!_ ”

“The world is filled with sick and twisted people… I’m just one of the functioning ones.”

_____

“Ugh…” Launchpad’s vision began clearing as he came to, pushing himself off the ground. The hangar was dark but he didn't need to see to know he was hurt as warm streamed down the side of his face.

He felt around until he came across a puddle of crimson liquid, not too big so he wasn't in danger of bleeding out. He forced himself up- with some issue- and as he stumbled to his feet and looked around, wiping the blood out of his eyes. His clothes were missing along with the limo, not good, “Fuck…”

He teetered his way upstairs, stumbling over himself, and managed to make it to his phone which was thankfully still sitting on his dresser. Launchpad did his best to try to call someone, but the brightness from his phone blinded him and gave him a headache, so he just growled and threw it into his hammock. He picked on one of the dirty towels on his floor and his best to wipe the blood out of his sight and hair, and once he finished up with that he threw on some clothes, grabbed his phone, and sprinted the best he could out of the hangar.

Launchpad was getting real sick of head injuries, but he couldn't think about that now… he had to get to his family.

But he grabbed something beforehand.

He huffed and puffed and wheezed as he bolted all the way to McDuck Manor- almost passing out on the way as he shoved others out of his way. By the time he got there he felt the blood continue to trickle down his face and it almost ran cold as there was no limo in sight. He had no idea how long he had been out for, but he hope to whatever god that it wasn't long. He buzzed the intercom, _“Yes, who is it?”_ Came the voice of the housekeeper.

“Beakley! Thank god!” The pilot called out.

_“Launchpad? Aren't you out with McDuck?”_

“No, I'm not! P-Please, let me in I… I…” His knees wobbled but he managed to catch himself, “It… It wasn't me…” Sound began to fade as his stomach churned in pain. 

Thing faded in and out so he wasn't really sure how much time had passed, but he did remember being picked up and carried. He registered red, blue, green, and purple as he felt the warm embrace of fire on his body.

The world faded back into sight as he heard someone sigh with relief, “Oh, good, you’re awake.”

“Mrs. B?” Was all Launchpad got out before the kids smothered him in hugs.

“Are you okay?!” “What happened?!” “Why aren't you with Uncle Scrooge?” “What did you mean by ‘It wasn't me’?”

“Launchpad!” LP didn't have any time to respond to the kids when Donald quacked in distress, embracing him as well, “What happen to you?!”

“Vincent,” the fowl said, causing everyone to freeze for a moment, “He knocked me out, stole my clothes and the limo, and came up here.”

“Wait, then that means-”

“Vincent has Scrooge.” It felt like sand in his mouth for him to say that but that didn't make it any less true, “He has Scrooge.”

“Carajo!” Donald shouted as he kicked Scrooge’s love seat. The only ones the really seemed to know what Donald said were Beakley, Webby, and Huey and Beakley was not happy.

“Donald! Not in front of the children!”

“They can't understand me anyways!” Threw back as he tried to calm down.

“That's still no excuse!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I'm just… frustrated. Why would kidnap Scrooge?”

“To get to me,” Launchpad added, “He knows that I wouldn't let anything happen to him, so he’s probably planning for a trade: Me for Scrooge.”

“No, not happening,” Donald said, “I don't care if Scrooge is my uncle, we will not exchange one life for another.” The ex-sailor knelt down next to his boyfriend, “Vincent will kill you and I can't… I can't lose you, we can't lose you.”

“Uncle Donald is right!” SHouted Dewey, “We're stronger together and we won’t be taken apart now!” The triplet’s eyes burned with passion and fury. He wasn't going to have his family torn apart.

“Yeah!” “What Dewey said!” “Your brother is messing with the wrong family!”

“I think it’s safe to say,” Mrs. Beakley placed a hand on his shoulder, “that the self-sacrifice you’re planning is utter poppycock, we stand together and we fight together.”

Launchpad didn't know what to say: Ever since Vincent forced his way back into his life everything came crashing down around him, he fell further than he had ever had before… but had risen just as high, maybe even higher. For so long he didn't believe that he’d ever had something like this again that's why he developed a Mask- happiness, naivety, obliviousness… everything that was taken from him at so young. He hardened, he darkened, he fumed underneath that Mask and no matter what he vowed never to set that layer against anyone.

Then Scrooge hired him, and after that, he met Donald.

Seven months was all it took to tear down every dark thought, every reinforced wall, every suffocating burn… and he loved every second of it.

He wasn't Lawrence Ellroy, he wasn't even Launchpad, he was… something much better.

He wasn't a driver, he wasn't a pilot, he wasn't a fighter… 

He was a boyfriend, he was an uncle, he was a nephew!

He was a man who had knew that the next day and the next and the day after that would never be one and the same. He was a man who had someone waiting for him every day. He was a man that had children that loved him and wanted nothing more than to have him around.

He was… _loved._

He was loved by those close to him.

At on point in his life he had nothing… now he has all that he could’ve ever wanted!

“Thank you… Thank you…” His voice was hollow, but not of fear or pain… it was hollow because he was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with what was just clicking with him: after losing it the first time he finally had what he had been seeking… a family, “You all… how? Why? This… you all… it doesn't make sense. Why…” WIth eyes full of tears and a confused smile on his bill, he stared, “Why do you love me so much?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Donald questioned, “Because we're small and as small as we are we have to stick close. The tighter the bonds the stronger the link.”

“I… I…” He was at a loss for words… so he used the next best thing. The kids scrambled off when they felt Launchpad rise and the moment the large duck got to his feet he gripped Donald’s arms before lifting him up and develing the most passionate, loving, embracing kiss he had ever done. DOnald melted in a second, the kids gawked, and Beakley smiled.

Once he was done he stared into the eyes of the duck he fell in love with, “I love you… I will always love you.”

“I know Launchpad, I love you too. I will stay by your side.”

He had only one thing to say, “Fantastic.”

Then his phone buzzed.

_____

Water dripped in the distance as it echoed throughout the warehouse where Scrooge was being held. The place was abandoned, broken down, and as disgusting as you could get it. The rich duck found himself tied up against a rust ridden support beam as Vincent sat across from him leaning his gun and twirling his knife. Scrooge tried to struggle but the duck was tied down so tight he was surprised that his circulation wasn't being cut off.

Five hours, he had been there for five hours.

His anger burned as he glared at Vincent and every time the duck would notice he would just innocently smile, which would drive Scrooge’s anger through the roof!

“He’s not gonna come.”

“Now Scroogy, sad for you to think like that isn't it? You should have more faith in your pilot.”

“Aye do, that's why I’m sayin’ that he won't come, me family won't let him.”

“Oh I know,” Vincent began standing up and walking over to Scrooge, “That’s why I spent them a little… motivation earlier.”

“What are ye talkin’ about?”

“Let’s just say,” Vincent took his cleaned gun and pistol-whipped Scrooge across the face, “if Lawrence doesn’t come here and trade places for you in the next… 46 hours and 37 minutes, then…”

_____

_“...You can say goodbye to you precious Uncle Scrooge,” Everyone was stunned as they stared at Launchpad’s phone screen, “That’s why I propose a challenge: As of now, when you watch this, you probably will have less than 48 hours to find us and If **Launchpad** doesn’t come alone or you don't find this place on time then… I guess the kiddos get their inheritance after all.”_ Launchpad glared at the image of his brother as that image smirked, _"The clock is ticking brother… time to get to work!”_ Then the video ended.

Silence.

Launchpad was about to open his mouth again but Donald stopped him, “No, you’re not going back to what you would’ve done originally. I already told you we will not trade one life for another.”

“Then what do we do? Vincent knows us, he knows _me,_ he knows that we won't just leave him.”

“And we won’t, but we'll figure something out,” Donald rested a hand on his shoulder, “together.”


	17. Chapter 17

They got the video around 1:30 that Sunday.

It was 10 o’clock… on Tuesday. They were pulling their feathers out. They only had a few hours left and they still weren’t anywhere close to finding Vincent and Scrooge.

Duckburg was huge on its own and trying to search the entire place wasn't going to do them any good, but they tried anyway.

The video was dark, but with after Huey worked his magic they could determine that where Scrooge was, was in some sort of basement or warehouse but that was still vague so there wasn't much they could do with that.

It a lot from the rest of the family to keep Launchpad from completely breaking down from stress. His mind formulated many “what ifs” situations that had him on the verge of exploding or crying his eyes out, but Donald and the kids were always there to calm him down.

The triplets didn't go to school Monday and today because they wouldn’t have been able to concentrate with the uncle kidnapped, so Donald calls them in sick. Speaking of the kids, the triplets and Webby were more stressed than they have ever been in the few adventures they’ve gone through. This wasn't fun. This wasn't exhilarating. SOmeone was threatening the life of two fo their uncles and the kids were furious.

Webby nervously braided her hair, Louie cared less about his phone, Dewey paced around more, and Huey read through his Junior Woodchuck book in hopes it would give him some sort of clarity for the situation.

Beakley did her best to train Donald, utilize his anger to his fullest extent so it wasn't just him blowing up and attacking anything that moves. He had to be rational, he had to be sound of mind, he needed to be… in control. Hearing of Launchpad's struggles with his own anger really put it into perspective for him how lax he was with his own. He always worried about hurting to boys, but knew- always knew in a way- that he wouldn’t ever and seeing how his boyfriend learned to hold a leash on his… it was motivating.

_____

“Well, this is a little disappointing isn’t it?” Vincent asked as he was working on Scrooge's harness, “I was so sure that 48 hours would’ve been enough time for Lawrence to make up his mind. What do you think Scrooge?”

“ _Launchpad._ ”

“Huh?”

“His name is Launchpad, **not** Lawrence.”

“Oh… well,” he tightens the harness causing Scrooge to quack, “I don't really care, now do I? It won’t matter in a few hours anyway: He doesn't show up you die and I’ll hunt him down along with the rest of your family, he does come then I keep my word and let you go but I still kill my brother. I win either way,” Vincent had a smug look as he traced his knife against Scrooge, “You known McDuck, I’m quite surprised that you still accepted my brother after everything I told you. He’s a liar, a thief, and violent, why would you ever want someone like that around you and your family?” The large fowl dragged Scrooge up to the upper walkway of the warehouse and once up there latched him to a rope and dangled him in the air. 

“He’ll break someone’s back without a second thought, he’ll take a piece of glass and jag it into someone’s leg if they irritated, why would you want someone like that?” Vincent was partly genuinely curious and trying to rile the old duck up. His smirk faltered when he heard Scrooge laugh, “What’s so funny?”

“You, ya twat! It’s funny how _stupid_ ye sound, that’s not Launchpad at all!”

“Oh really?” He crossed his arms, “How would _you_ describe him?”

“He’s a moronic, bumbling idiot how can't manage to drive anything without crashing it, he’s the type of person who doesn't know what’s goin’ on but smiles anyway, he’s…” Scrooge briefly stopped as he pondered, “he… is like fire and ice and rage, he’s been lonely for so long, too long in fact, and… he’s wonderful.”

“He rarely cares for his own safety if it means he can protect those close to him, he is so fiercely loyal that it would probably be cumbersome to his own health,” Scrooge turned his head and had the most shit-eating grin on possible, “He’s me nephew an’ there isn't anything you can do about it, family sticks together… an’ aye think Launchpad’s finally sick o’ ye.”

_____

Confusion, that's all Launchpad felt.

Confusion.

He felt lost, lost because anger and fear brewed within the duck but it wasn't mixing like it had done all those times before. Normally, rage and fear mixed into determination… but this time they had clashed, driving Launchpad into a panicked frenzy.

Only a few hours left and they still didn't have a plan. He knew that they were all willing to help, but he wished they wouldn't. He wished that they’d just let him give himself up just so they could have their Uncle Scrooge again and forget about him. Launchpad, a _very small_ part of him, still wondered his worth. That part deemed him unimportant and just wanted the Duck family to be together again, but he knew they would fight him tooth and feather to show him that he was family, he knew that but it didn't make the situation any easier.

Being cooped up in the Manor was suffocating to LP, so he decided to take the kids down to the park using Donald’s station wagon as Vincent still had the limo. It was a beautiful day in DUckburg with the sun shining, the blue sky shimmering, and the chirping of birds and the laughter of other children shook Launchpad to the core in the best way. 

Webby, even being 13 and a year older than the triplets she still acted like a kid and enjoyed every bit of play whether that was with their dart guns or just dragging Launchpad around until they got to the swings. LP did find it funny how young the kids looked compared to their age.

Dewey had LP chase him around as they played one on one Cops and Robbers, which did wonders in distracting Launchpad and have him focus on one thing- him. His uncle's mind had been working overtime the whole time of Scrooge's kidnapping and he could tell it was driving him insane: He didn't smile as often, he was more jittery, he was… hollow. The blue-clad brother wasn't going to have any of that. Uncle Launchpad was here to stay and he wasn't going to let some distorted image of family take that away from him.

Huey liked to scavenge around had had Launchpad, once Dewey was done with him, assist him in holding objects and examining them. The oldest triplet’s handy Junior Woodchuck book had always been at his side and he even let Launchpad read through it. He wanted his uncle’s energy to be out somewhere else other than Scrooge and so far it was working. Webby gave him a smile, Dewey focused his mind, and Huey was here giving him one simple task after another- building his confidence and energy back up.

Louie was the odd one in this situation, he just wanted to talk. Once the others broke Launchpad mostly out of his stupor it was the green-clad brother to get Launchpad to open up and explain how he was feeling. During this time they drifted a little ways away from the play area and sat at one of the park stone tables, “We know you’re worried Uncle,” Louie began, “but you can’t grind yourself into the Ground. Tell us: how _exactly_ are you feeling?”

Launchpad fiddled with the cracks in the table and ringing his hands together for a few moments before speaking, “I just got a family again… I don't want it to hate me.”

“Why would we hate you?” Asked Huey.

“Look, I know what you kids are trying to do and, trust me, I really appreciate it, but… I got your uncle kidnapped,” Launchpad lowly growled at himself, “My past reared its big ugly head and I wrapped you guys into it. I-”

“Shut up.” Everyone turned their attention to Louie, “You are our _uncle,_ you hear me? _You’re family._ That’s not going to change. You thought your brother was tucked away in jail never to be seen again, so it’s not your fault that he came back. You know as well as we do that nothing is ever simple with us, so why should this be any different?”

“But-”

“We're going to get Uncle Scrooge back and that's final!”

“But how?!” Launchpad swung around and stood to his full height, “We still don't know where he or my brother are, there’s only seven of us against a plethora of Vincent’s ‘friends’, and we still don't have a plan!” Tears welled up in his eyes as he gripped his hair tightly, “I don't think we can win, I don't think-”

_BAM!_

As many emotions flooded Launchpad he had failed to notice his fast retreat backward, or that he went right into the path of a duck, with a folder of paper, and scribbling something down in a journal. Papers flew everywhere, scattering about, as the smaller duck landed on his behind. The kids ran over to try to grab as many papers before they started flying away, “I-I’m so sorry!”

“The duck laughed, “No, it's fine. I really shouldn’t walk around with my beak in my journal,” he assisted the kids in picking up his items.

Launchpad helped as well and as he helped scrunched up some of the papers he got a peek into the duck’s journal: The sketch image of a mangled corpse, “Jesus Christ!” The large duck jumped back. The duck, who couldn't be any older than 18 or 19, looked at him confused before spotting his open journal and chuckled.

“Oops, sorry you had to see that,” the teen picked up his book, “my projects aren't for the faint of heart.”

“What kind of projects??” Dewey voiced, holding up a few bigger sketches of various killer-like figures and dead bodies, freaking the kids out a little.

“I work for movies, horror movies specifically. I’m the one who designs the Slashers and certain death scenes. I like to draw on my own as well, but it's still horror stuff,” his explanation was cool and easily believable, but… it felt rehearsed in a way.

Nobody noticed, however, “Horror movies? That's pretty cool!” Webby exclaimed as she handed back some papers, “You must be really busy!”

“Eh, not really. I’m called in to work on many projects but a few actually make it off the ground. I’m just the concept designer, so I guess I can't really be upset about it. I still get paid and all that,” the duck opened up a leather satchel and after putting the papers back in his folder he put that folder in his satchel. This was when Launchpad actually noticed what the duck was wearing: a tight, black athletics shirt, black fingerless gloves, and a shiny black wristwatch. He thought it odd as well as… something was missing.

He never got to voice his thoughts as Louie held up another drawing, one different from the rest, “This is a warehouse,” he stated showing everyone else.

“Oh yeah, that’s one of my personal ones. I like sketching up scenes and sometimes I use them for movies, but normally I keep them to myself.”

“You design the scenes yourself?” Asked the red-clad brother.

“Sometimes from memory, but normally I visit locations to really get a sense of the environment. I’m actually not from Duckburg, but when I found this abandoned warehouse,” the teen duck smiled, “I just had to sketch it. There hasn't been anyone around when I started, but lately, there have been people leaving in and out of it- a little frustrating to not sketch them in when I draw.”

This piqued everyone’s interest, “People? Where… Where might this warehouse be located?”

The duck cocked his head at Dewey, “It’s Warehouse 24 by the docks, why?”

“Did these people look… rough? Like their clothes and such?”

“ _Yeah…_ ” The duck artist had no idea what was going on as the kids and Launchpad looked at each other in excitement, relief, and happiness.

“Thank you, _thank you so much!_ ” Launchpad scooped the dude into a crushing hug as he spun him around. The kids cheered as they hugged each other the same way. Once everyone calmed down mildly Launchpad out the duck down and held onto the sketch, “Is this accurate? Like in you didn't change anything about it?”

“Y-Yeah. I was already rundown so I left it the same.”

“Do you have more of this warehouse? Different angles?” The duck went through his satchel and pulled out a few more pages, “Can we have them?”

“Um… sure. I already made photocopies so it’s not like losing them entirely.”

“Thank you, this is a blessing really!” Launchpad vigorously shook the duck’s hand, vibrating the entire dude’s body as he lifted him into the air. The triplets and Webby took the drawings and started formulating a plan Launchpad praised the duck once more, “Really, you don't understand what this means to us.”

“I’m happy to help!” The duck proclaimed, albeit a little confused. He didn't understand completely the situation, but seeing the ecstatic reactions of all five of them he deduced he had helped with something big. That alone brought a smile to his beak.

“By the way, why were you down at the park anyway?” Launchpad asked, curious.

“It’s peaceful down here, the sound of children laughing helps when I draw as strange as it sounds. I hang out at my best friend’s house and his little sisters are always for animated- it helps from time to time. I actually came here earlier, but I came back because I forgot something,” the duck started panning around, “now where… ah! There it is!” The duck jogged over to a concrete table, a little ways from where LP and the kids were sitting, and he picked up…

_...A long black coat with red trimming._

He tossed it over his shoulder, holding it with one hand, as he adjusted himself and smiled back at the large fowl, “Well, Launchpad, I guess this is where we part ways. I hope you and the kids figure out whatever it is you’re doing. See ya later!”

“Yeah, see ya!” Launchpad bid the duck farewell as he started walking back to the kids… but stopped when he realized something, “Launchpad… How did he know my name was Launchpad?” Confusion, once again, crept into his being as the kids noticed his change in demeanor, “Wait!” He yelled out, causing the duck to stop but not turn around, “my name, how do you know my name?” The kids began to worry, noticing that not one of them said any of their names when talking to this dude, “Who are you?”

The duck looked over his shoulder for a second before rummaging through the pockets on his coat and tossed something at them. It flew directly at Launchpad and even though he fumbled with it he kept in in his grasp.

A business card.

Confused, Launchpad looked back at the duck… who was smiling, “Who am I?” He threw his long coat on and slide into it with ease, as if he’s done it a thousand times, “A friend, and if you ever need me call me and I’m there.” And with that, he turned and began walking off.

Launchpad examined the card which was fully black with a medieval-looking red “S” on one side and on the other a riddle written red as well:

**Only one color, but not one size. Stuck at the bottom, yet I easily fly.**

**Present in sun, but not in rain. Doing no harm, and feeling no pain.**

**What Am I?**

LP didn't take much time to think about it as it just gave him a million more questions, but when he looked up to ask the duck was gone. The children panned around but didn't see the duck either, which didn't make sense to Huey since he was just in front of them a few seconds ago.

It was weird, but Launchpad couldn’t think much about it right now. He took the card and shoved it in his wallet, “So… what have you guys come up with?”

“Launchpad, that-”

“Was weird? Yeah it was, but we’ll talk about it later,” he grinned, “So let's see what you guys have come up with.”

_____

1:25:36...

1:26:12...

1:27:54…

1:28:48… The warehouse side doors opened and in strolled Launchpad. Vincent grinned as he got closer, “Brother! I was getting worried that you wouldn't make it! So, have you accepted my deal?”

“Let me ask you one thing first,” his face was as void of emotion as Scrooge could tell.

Vincent’s smile faltered, “Fine, go ahead.”

“Why did you think you can win? The Duck family always work their hardest to protect those close to him, so why did you think you would get away with something like this?”

“Easy: You’re too much of a coward to let someone innocent die because of your inaction. You already did it with Samantha so you wouldn't want to do it again.”

“Okay, you got me there, but let me ask you another thing,” Launchpad reached into his pockets pulled out to sets of brass knuckles and slipping them on, “what made you think I would go quietly?”

“To be honest,” he pointed the gun… before tossing it aside and branded his hunting knife, “I was _really hoping_ you wouldn't.”

“Well then,” a smirk formed on his face as he fell into a fighting stance, “Let's get Dangerous…”


	18. Chapter 18

_Two Hours Earlier…_

“So, does everyone understand their role?” Huey asked as he laid out the different angled sketches of the warehouse along with actual pictures.

Donald nodded, “Beakley and I will take care of the morons patrolling around outside, you three,” he said looking at his nephews, “bring them to us. Once they’re done with then we can move inside.”

“I’m running to the police and alerting them to where Vincent is, hopefully, it won’t be a hassle with them and they listen to me right away,” Webby added with pride in her voice.

“And _I,_ ” Launchpad spoke, “am going in to confront my brother. I’ll distract him long enough for you guys to sneak in, get Scrooge, and get out. He’s an escaped convict, so I don't have to get any dirt on him, but if he happens to say anything,” He pulled out a recorder from his back pocket, “I’ll have this little baby with me just in case.”

Warehouse 24 was about twice as big as Launchpad’s hangar and one and a half times higher. The place was cover in overgrown plants, rust, and broken glass. The warehouse had not been used in years and no one really knew why it wasn't ever torn down.

The warehouse it felt had a huge loading door in front, a person-sized entrance in the front as well, and two side entrances on the right side facing it. There were a row of windows near the back of the place, so that's where Beakley and Donald needed to get to.

The Duckburg police station wasn't too far from McDuck Manor, only a 30 minute run, but it was all imperative that Webby got the attention of the authorities because even though it was their family being messed with, Vincent was a dangerous criminal which was the reason Launchpad was the one facing him- Vincent will focus in on him and ignore anything else.

While Launchpad was a little apprehensive of putting the kids in some sort of danger he knew they could handle it. Their adventures so far have taught them some pretty cool lessons… they weren't completely defenseless.

_____

Slash after slash, Vincent lunged at Launchpad at any given moment forcing the large duck to retreat back. The time that the knife did connect with Launchpad it had either missed a lot and only cut him slightly or screeched against the metal of his brass knuckles.

Though Launchpad was partly on the defensive he knew how to push to his advantage in a fight. He bided his time until his brother missed a strike and overstepped, throwing him off balance for a moment- LP took his opening. With quick action, Launchpad speared his brother in the gut before tossing him aside. While his brother scrambled to get up, Launchpad took this opportunity and landed a few solid kicks to Vincent’s midsections before slugging him across the face, blood splattering across the dirty warehouse floor.

Vincent was surprised by this, to say the least. He _had_ expected his brother just to give himself up and he would be able to kill him and that will be that, or at the very least if he going to fight it wouldn’t have been hard to take him down.

Vincent was wrong on both accounts, _so very wrong._

Launchpad fought with a fury Vincent didn't recognize, it wasn't out of hatred or rage… but of determination and protectiveness. Something Vincent had never encountered with his younger brother before.

It frustrated and turned him on at the same time.

He always wanted Launchpad to be more confident, but he never succeeds other than when he got him angry… but this was on a whole ‘nother level.

As he gingerly picked himself back up, still holding onto the knife, he glanced over to see Scrooge still suspended in the air then went back over to his brother who was breathing heavily if only slightly, “This… This is a lot more interesting than I thought it was going to be. Let's see what else you got!”

_____

The fight inside raged on as it echoed a bit to the outside. A few duck and dog goons patrolled the outside for any signs of any unwanted guests.

It didn't take long for some to show up, “Hey! Idiots, I’m over here!” The patrolling pair spun around to see a young duck in a green hoodie shouting at them, “You remember me?! COme and get me!” The kid sprinted off.

The pair only paused for a moment before running after the boy. He dipped under pallets, ducked behind piles of trash and metal, and was pretty decent at dodging the bullets they shot at him. He looked like he didn't have a care in the world!

Truth was that this was _utterly terrifying!_ Louie hoped to whatever gods that he wouldn't run into another gun for the rest of his life!

After sprinting behind a small storage unit he fell out of sight…

...only for the goons to be attacked from two sides, dropping their guns in the process. The two were face to face with duck in a sailor suit and a burly looking maid, “Well gentlemen,” the maid spoke, “it seems you found yourself in a precarious situation, do you have anything to say for yourselves?” They responded by pulling out knives. Donald and Beakley smirked.

The duck, who was larger, charged at Beakley while the smaller dog thought he could get the jump on Donald by lunging with his knife.

Idiots they were.

The moment the dog ran at Donald, Beakley cupped her hands together and launched the ex-sailor into the air. He completely avoided the incoming attack by stomping on his head before roundhouse kicking the enemy duck across the face, him staggering off to the side.

Once Donald planted his feet back on the ground he snickered at Beakley, “That was easier than I expected.”

“Look alive, the fight isn't over!” She shouted as she readied herself as the two got back up.

Donald felt himself fuming… remembering how Louie came back from being _shot at!_ That… that _pissed him off!_ His anger flowed, and he channeled that.

The moment the dog tried to get him again he dodged with such swift movement it was almost like he was the wind, and with a single windup he smashed his fist into the dog’s face knocking him out cold. He latched onto the large duck that was attacking Beekley and while he was distracted Beakley took this opportunity and piledrived the goon into the ground.

The two took a moment to breathe before high fiving and dragged the two unconscious bodies over to a pile of six others and the triplets helped tie them up. They had managed to take out a good chunk of goons on the outside and it was assumed some were inside, but this was a good start, “Should we make our way to the back?”

“Yes Donald, I think we should.”

_____

_Earlier..._

Heavy breathing, that's all filled Webby’s ears.

She breezed through the streets of Duckburg as Launchpad, her grandmother, and the boys drove down to the docks to confront Vincent. Incidentally, she had the biggest and most important job: Getting the police to listen to her.

Launchpad had given her his phone, unlocked, so she could show the police the video Vincent sent so they would listen to her. She wanted to use that as a last resort because she had hoped beyond hoped they would just take her word.

But things rarely turn out that way.

Webby came to a screeching halt as she stared widely at the concrete stairs that led up into the Duckburg Police Station: the stairs led up to two heavy wooden doors in the wall of an old brick building, just above the doorway there were huge letters that said **DUCKBURG POLICE STATION.**

She scaled the steps and enter the building and immediately hit with constant motion and noise. There was a slew of wooden desks where some of them were empty while others were occupied by cops doing paperwork and whatnot. Ducks, Dogs, Parrots, Eagles, and other animals never stayed in one place as they shuffled arrestees into the prison cage, asking others file case files, or just hanging around during break and chatting.

Webby was in awe of everything she was taking in, but she didn't have time to freeze. SHe had a job to do. The young girl walked up to the receptionist desk, which housed a thin looking blue Macaw, “Um, excuse me?”

The parrot was typing away at his computer when Webby spoke, taking a moment to find the source of the voice when he spotted the top of her head and bow, “Oh! Hello, is there something you need?” He genuinely asked.

“Y-Yeah, uh… Can I talk to an officer on duty?”

“Do you want to report a crime?” The receptionist was a little worried about what this young girl might report, after all, there were sick people in the world.

Webby was oblivious to the internal monologue the macaw was having as she beamed, “Yes, yes! I would love that very much!” The bird instructed her to take a seat, which she did, as he went to fetch an officer. 

She didn't wait long as the macaw came back with a duck of dark sand coloring, full chocolate brown hair, a burgundy shirt, and a black jacket and form-fitting pants, “I’m Officer Valentina Crackshell-Cabrera, Jonas here said you wanted to talk?” Though the woman seemed intimidating she was nothing but warm and kind towards Webby.

“Yes, I have something to report.”

“Okay, then why don't you come with me and we can talk more in private- thank you, Jonas, I’ll take it from here,” she addressed the parrot as he went back to his desk. Webby followed the lady cop into a room with a comfortable couch, soft carpeting, and large windows that looked into the precinct and another that looked into an interview room. Officer Cabrera gestured for Webby to sit and she listened, “So, what is it that you want to report.”

“I would like to report a kidnapping.”

This threw Valentina a little off, “A kidnapping? And whom may I ask was taken?”

“Scrooge McDuck.”

This threw her for even more of a loop. Now, at this point, she was a little skeptical because how would a young girl know of a kidnapping of the world’s richest duck, “Señor McDuck? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m positive.”

“And how, may I ask, would you know this?”

“My granny works for him, so we live at McDuck Manor with him.”

“Okay… are you grandmother is…?”

“Bentina Beakley, my name is Webbigail Vanderquack.”

“Okay Webbigail- may I call you Webby?” Webby nodded, “Okay Webby, so are you sure that Señor McDuck is missing and not off on some adventure?”

“Yes, I’m sure!” Her voice started rising, “Please, he’s been missing for two days and I know where he is!”

“If he’s been missing then how do you know where he is?” Cabrera wanted to believe this girl, but things started not to add up with her story.

Webby bunched her brows as she dug into the small purse she brought with her and pulled out Launchpad’s phone, “A phone?” The young duck nodded as he turned it on and went through it and pulled up the video Vincent sent. Valentina was wide-eyed and silent as the 2 and a half minute played all the way through and the moment it ended she leaned back and sighed, “And you and his family have been trying to find him, haven't you?” Once again Webby nodded, “ANd this Vincent-”

“Is an escaped convict that was imprisoned for killing a young girl, he escaped roughly four years ago and has been trying to hunt down his brother Launchpad McQuack- Scrooge’s personal driver- and kill him! Look it up in your database: McQuack, Vincent- 36 years old, arrested in 2004.”

It almost sounded like Webby was giving Officer Cabrera an order… and she was strangely compiled to listen. She did check the database and low and behold she found everything Webby said, the file, the arrest record, the sentence, all of it. Including the arrest warrant out for him now.

She instructed another officer to print it out and told another to gather as many available officers as they could. She ran back to the room where Webby still was, “Where is he?”

“Warehouse 24, at the docks.”

“Good, stay here we’ll get him.”

“No!” Webby jumped off the couch and ran over, “I’m going with you!”

“Joven uno, no, you can't. It’s much too dangerous.”

“He’s my Uncle! Both of them! And my family is over the right now, while one uncle is kidnapped and the other is fighting for his life! I’m going to be there for them!”

Valentina wanted to deny her, she wanted to tell her off… but Webby reminded her of herself, “...Fine, but you stay in my cruiser.” Webby’s smile grew wide as she followed Officer Cabrera to the cruisers.

_____

_Present Time..._

_WHACK!_

Launchpad was sent flying.

He felt himself getting tired and tired as the fight went on. Anger fills you with adrenaline and you can trust him that he had _a lot_ of adrenaline, but it was beginning to fade.

But that didn't mean that he was going to give up now. No, he was far from ending this fight.

Launchpad and Vincent had traded blows for close to an hour, their blood splattered across the ground and on each other- LP’s wounds were cuts while Vincent’s were bruised and busted open skin. And they just kept swinging, over and over again.

LP noticed that the goons that patrolled the walkway above seem to disappear once they got a call on their walkie, he smiled briefly, _‘Good job you five,’_ he thought as he uppercutted his brother.

Without the lackies Beakley, Donald, and the boys could get Scrooge then he could finish this.

They just had to hurry up.

At this he was so focused on his brother that he didn't notice Beakley and them coming through the upper window and sneakily making their way over to Scrooge to pull him in.

During this time, however, Vincent managed to slash Launchpad’s arm and forcing him to lunge back, “Getting a little slow there, arentcha? Admit it... you’re tired. This can all... end if you just... give up now,” Vincent was panting as he tried to talk, “You’re strong, I’ll give you that…. But you’ll never… _Never_ win against me!”

“It’s not about winning… it’s about doing what’s right, and doing right is getting my uncle back… and throwing you back to jail!”

“And tell me, how are you-”

_CLANK!_

Launchpad’s blood ran cold.

Looking up in fear he saw a small bolt rolling, falling, and hitting the ground below. Dewey froze. Beakley and Donald almost had Scrooge untied when it happened.

Vincent saw them.

His eyes almost grew _**black.**_

“ _ **NOOO!!!**_ ” It was only in this moment that LP noticed they drifted a lot during their fight…

...and drifted towards Vincent’s discarded gun.

He lunged.

Launchpad roared.

And there was a bang!

…

…

…A single hole formed in the rooftop.

Vincent and Launchpad wrestled with waning strength as they fought over the gun. Luckily enough LP had just _a little bit_ more strength.

He headbutted Vincent. He let go.

His brother was dazed, so he took his chance. He pounded his fist into his face over and over again before kicking him in the abdomen and knocking him to the ground.

As his brother slowly sat up, on his knees, blood spilling from his beak, and slowly blinking.

Launchpad fumed and aimed the gun on his brother. Vincent chuckled, “Well.. whaddya know... you won,” the gun shook slightly in his hands, “So what are you waiting for? Do it… do it, coward, kill me… kill me… Come on, do it! _KILL ME!_ ” Vincent pounded on his chest as Launchpad huffed harder and harder, the world fading and his anger grew. He could end it right here right now, he would never have to see Vincent again… all it takes is one bullet.

A dark, sinister grin formed on Launchpad’s face as his finger drifted towards the trigger… all it would take was a single moment and-

“ _Launchpad no!_ ”

The dark faded, and the smile shattered. He looked up to see the pained looked on Donald’s face, “Please, don't do it! If you do you’re no better than him!”

“Don't listen to him,” Vincent cut in and getting LP’s attention back on him, “You’ve wanted this for so long, don't let him take this away from you! You won, claim your prize!” Vincent was wide-eyed as he chanted at Launchpad, “Take the one thing I couldn't from you!”

Launchpad bounced between Donald and Vincent, over and over it was almost making him dizzy.

_**‘One bullet.’** _

_‘You can’t!’_

_**‘Has done so much to you…’** _

_‘But you made it past that!’_

_**‘He took your innocence…’** _

_‘But you learned to love again! Think about them!’_

_**‘End him.’** _

_‘Beakley!’_

_**‘Take his life.”** _

_‘The kids!’_

_**‘End his existence.’** _

_‘Donald will **never** forgive you!’_

His choice was made. He stared at his brother, took a deep breath, and cocked back the hammer of the gun.

“NO!”

_**BANG!** _

...Silence, nothing but silence…

…

…

...And a smoking hole in the concrete behind Vincent, and not a hole through his skull.

Launchpad stormed over and gripped Vincent by the collar as he brought the gun up for him to see, “ _I never would,_ there isn't a thing you could do to make me,” he raised the gun and whacked it across Vincent’s face and knocking him out, “but never said I wouldn't do that. Call it payback.” Launchpad collapsed. He heard sirens.

_____

There were a few ambulances for the unconscious goons Beakley told them she and Donald took care of, and one for Launchpad to get his injuries checked out.

One of the cops had brought Launchpad what he believed was his clothes… as they were burned. Including his pilot’s jacket.

It pained him to see something that he had cherished for so many years destroyed, but I guess it couldn't be helped. Vincent wanted to hurt him, and he did.

After Officer Cabrera took his and Scrooge’s statements, and both were cleared to not go to the hospital, they all left for home. The moment they got there, however, Launchpad said he had something to do and locked himself in The Study. It wasn't until an hour went by before he unlocked the doors and everyone went inside to see what he did.

Only to find a shirtless Launchpad with his burned jacket draped over his arm, “I’ve thought about many ways to do this… but there’s only one real way for me,” He held out his hand, “Donald, would you care to dance?” Donald took the offer without hesitating.

Launchpad put on the music and began singing as they danced:

“ _Two become one, our souls will be connected;_ ”

“ _A bond that’s stronger than words!_ ”

“ _And now in sync we scream our fates will come together;_ ”

“ _And it will not go unheard!_ ”

The song sounded fast-paced but was slowed down for the purpose for Launchpad to dance with Donald and guiding him slowly through the study hand in hand:

“ _Locking eyes becoming intertwined, you’ll be sharing your fate with mine!_ ”

“ _Side by side we’ll battle through the night;_ ”

“ _And soon enough we'll find our way!_ ”

“ _When the sun has set, we'll battle through nightmares, we won't give up;_ ”

“ _I will stay by your side as we slip into madness!_ ”

Launchpad took the tarnished jacket- and after staring at it for a moment- draped it over Donald’s shoulders and continued to dance with him:

“ _Two become one, our souls will be connected;_ ”

“ _A bond that’s stronger than words!_ ”

“ _And now in sync we scream our fates will come together;_ ”

“ _And it will not go unheard!_ ”

The kids found their dancing rather relaxing and seeing the happy grin on their uncle Donald’s face was priceless. It only clicked with Webby what was happening when Launchpad subtly reached into one of the pockets of the ruined jacket and pulled something out. She tried to not squeal. Launchpad stopped dancing:

“ _I-I-I could care less where it is you came from because we see what's waiting ahead!_ ”

“ _I knew from the first time that we became connected…_ ”

Launchpad brought the item in front of him and smiled as he opens the box, revealing a glistening silver band, and got on one knee. Donald froze with shock:

“ _I'll be with you till the end!_ ”

The music faded, but the moment didn't, “I don't have much, I don't think I ever will, and I’m damaged, very damaged. And I’ve been living in fear and anger for so much of my life… and I’m tired of it. I want to live Donald, I want to push forward in my life, for my future… and that future includes you.”

Tears welled up in the guys’ and Webby’s eyes, “You’ve done so much for me Donny, and I can't thank you enough. So I just have one question: Donald Fauntleroy Duck, will you marry me?”

One Beat…

Two Beats…

Three-

“Yes.”

LP blinked, “What?”

“I said yes you blockhead!” Donald yelled in mock anger and the inability to hold back his happiness.

“O-Oh! Well… cool!”

“What are you waiting for, put it on me!”

“R-Right,” Launchpad scrambled back to his feet and slipped the ring on Donald’s right hand before he pulled him into the most passionate kiss you will ever see.

Everyone cheered as Dewey looked at his green-clad brother, “Are you crying?”

“N-No! I just… got something in my eye,” he lied, wiping tears and smiling.

_____

Donald sat outside his room in confusion.

It had been 20 minutes since he accepted Launchpad’s proposal and he told him that he had something special, so they went up to Donald’s room but Donald himself was locked out.

The ex-sailor didn't really know what Launchpad was doing, but he got his answer when he heard the door lock disengage. He walked in, “Alright, what’s the big idea in locking me… out... Of… my room..” His speech slowed to a halt when he saw Launchpad…

...In nothing but white briefs.

“Oh.” That's all he said.

Launchpad turned to him, “I didn't lie when I said I was tired of being afraid and after today…” He walked closer, “I’m ready. Are you?” LP was nervous and unsure, he had no idea if he was moving too fast, but… he felt this was right.

It made him a little unsure when Donald held no emotion and cold ran through his system as he watched him walked towards the door. He had thought he had done something wrong.

Until Donald reengaged the lock and looked at Launchpad, “Yes, a thousand times yes!”

Launchpad beamed… and it seemed something else was also ready.

 _‘I love this man,’_ They both thought as the moved towards the bed.


	19. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...And Ends always have new Beginnings...

It had been three months since Vincent was arrested and sent back to prison, never to be seen again. The Duck family living in peace… well, relative peace.

Things can never be too quiet with this family.

Launchpad stayed at his hanger every other weekend, but now he lived full time at The Manor. He had been sad when his jacket was destroyed all those months ago, but on his 30th birthday he got the _best gift ever!_ The kids and Beakley worked nonstop to make him a new one: A durable smoky grey jacket with a snowy white fluffy collar, storage pockets on each arm- inside pockets as well-, a flame coloring gradient near the bottom, and a pair of white angel wings laid on the back.

It was the best gift he had ever gotten!

_____

It was a lovely Wednesday afternoon on the houseboat-

“Shit!”

-And Louie was about to get in _real trouble,_ “Louie!” Donald shouted.

“What?”

“Where did you learn that word?!”

“Umm…”

Donald knew _exactly_ where he learned it from, “Launchpad!”

The heavy footfalls of the large came from above deck before he appeared in the doorway, “Yeah?”

“Louie cursed.”

“Really? Cool!” His husband glared at him, “I mean… Louie, you’re not supposed to use that type of language!” He chastised, and since Donald had his back to him mouthed _Not around Donald._ Louie understood.

The young duck ran off leaving the two men alone, “I really wished you didn't curse in front of them.”

“They normally don't repeat what I say, they know that.”

“And Louie?”

Launchpad shrugged, “He’s a bit of a rebel, now come on! It’s snowing, let's go play with the kids!” An in an instant he ran off.

Donald facepalmed, “I married a man-child…” Then he smiled, “I wouldn't change that for the world…”

_____

_One month later: Rio De Janeiro, Brazil_

On a 35-inch flat screen came the fuzzy news broadcast with a slender green duck reporter at the front- the light from the television lighting up the small on bedroom/ living room apartment, “E assim Duckburg é agradecimentos salvar ao avaro McDuck e à sua família!” _**And so Duckburg is saved thanks to Scrooge McDuck and his family!**_

The occupants of the home looked at each other in awe at what they had just heard, ignoring the rest of the coverage, “McDuck? Isn't that-”

“Sim, it is meu amor.” The green parrot said as he stared at his partner.

The red rooster grew nervous, “They’re dubbing it La guerra de sombra… and we weren't there to help.”

“Well… why don't we be there for him next time?” The parrot’s Brazilian accent was smooth and exotic to the ear, “We’ve been apart for far too long.”

“¡Eso es lo que pensaba!” _**That’s what I was thinking!**_ The rooster had an accent as well but it wasn't exactly like the parrot’s, “But we don't have much money, especially to fly to America.”

“Then we will do what we must, for our amigo.”

______________________________

_Somewhere different but the same…_

High up on the rooftops of St. Canard lunged the purple protector that villains feared: Darkwing Duck!

Or as some better knew him as, Drake Millard.

He had been doing this superhero business for a few years now and to say he’s seen some weird things would be an understatement, but he’s glad to have his trusty companion Launchpad by his side whenever he needed him.

This night, however, LP wasn't with him. Instead, the large duck was watching over Darkwing’s daughter Gosalyn who he couldn't believe was turning 13 in just a few months. Oh how time flies!

But he couldn't think about that right now, he had to focus on what he just came across… or rather, _who_ he came across.

He watched as the duck, dressed similar to him just in red and yellow coloring, stomping around below him, “Negaduck,” he growled out. They had been at odds forever now and nothing really seemed to change that, sure they would team up once in a while to fight a common threat but those never lasted.

Negaduck was always coming up with different schemes to take him down, but something about him tonight seemed different. He looked… more grizzled, _‘Maybe something happened back in the Negaverse,’_ thought Darkwing before he heard the pump of a shotgun behind him.

“Darkwing, I guess I finally got you,” Negaduck voiced as the vigilante turned around to see the barrel of a shotgun pointed directly at his face.

Confusion, “Negaduck?”

“Yeah, who else?”

“But… if you here, then _who’s that?_ ” He pointed down below.

Now also confused, Negaduck lowered his gun and went over to the edge to peer over it, catching a glimpse of who Darkwing was talking about, “What the hell? WHo’s that?”

“You don't know? He’s not like a fan of yours or anything?”

“Are you kidding? Even if I had fans here they certainly wouldn't be parading around looking like me!”

“Then… do you think it's another you? From another Negaverse?” At this Negaduck carefully examined the “imposter”.

“Well… maybe. I’m not an expert, so I can't really say if there are other Negaverse but it is a possibility.”

“Then,” DW began, “how about we team up for this night and figure out what he’s doing. You can always try to kill me later.”

Negaduck pondered this for a moment, “Hm… _fine._ But don't get used to this!”

Both ducks pulled out their grappling hooks and swung down. For a few minutes, they followed the other Negaduck and listened in, “Trip 12, a success. I find myself in another version of St. Canard that is… distinctly lacking in trash on the street and…” he went on like this for a bit longer like we were recording something.

He seems to be messing with some sort of watch-based device and for a moment he put it down DW hatched a plan, “You distract him and I’ll see if I can get hands on whatever he was messing with.”

“Why can't I get it?”

“Are you gonna give it to me if you do?”

“...Distraction, right, that’s easy,” he spat out before sprinting off. A few seconds later there was a loud crash, which spooked the other Negaduck and even enough for him to go explore to see what it was. Darkwing took his chance.

The moment he had the device in his possession he sprinted off, running down alleyway after alleyway until he thought it was safe enough to stop. He examined the device: it was held in a leather case and when the leather cover was lifted up it revealed a tech looking panel but nothing Darkwing had ever seen, “What is this?”

“ _Mine,_ ” he heard a dark voice behind him. He spun around to see the other Negaduck, “ _Give it back!_ ”

“No. Other Negaduck, you’re not getting… whatever this is back!”

He seemed confused, “‘Other Nega-’ Oh. Is that what he calls himself here? What a stupid ass name. No, I am not Negaduck.”

“Then who are you?”

The masked duck smirked, “Can't you see? I am the terror that flaps in the night,” DW’s blood ran cold, “I am the monster children fear…”

“No…”

“I am what makes criminals boo and jeer…”

“You can't be…”

“I,” he lifted up his cape, a little tattered, “am _**Darkwing Duck!**_ ”

“But… But that's not possible!”

“I don't care what you think, just give me back what is mine,” he pointed at the device.

Dw didn't understand what was happening, but he held firm, “No.”

The other “Darkwing” seem to snap and lunged at DW, who activated the device on accident by pressing all the buttons. There was a flash, a loud scream, and then… nothing.

DW looked around and didn't see the other him anywhere, just him and the device- he held it up, “What _are_ you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus end Launchpad: The Mask we Wear... but the stories not over.
> 
> I would like to thank you all for sticking around and reading my story, I really appreciate it and I hope you're excited for the sequel! Oh yes, if you couldn't tell from the ending of this chapter or that there's a Series section on this now I am going to be writing a sequel, and it should, hopefully be out soon.
> 
> Comment below, I love to hear what you guys thought of this story of the individual chapters.
> 
> Stay tuned for _Ducktales: The Reflections we Face_!
> 
> See you all later!


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